Emile returned from his excursion more inflamed with passion than ever, and in such a state of blissful enthusiasm that it seemed to him impossible that he should not triumph over everything. The generous Gilberte had powerfully assisted his illusion by sharing it, and therein she had shown herself, by her lack of prudence and her openness of heart, the worthy child of Antoine. Emile might well have reproached himself, however, for having gone so far with her without having first made sure of Monsieur Cardonnet's consent. That was a terrible imprudence; indeed it was culpable rashness; for, unless a miracle should happen, he could reckon on his father's refusal. But Emile was in that state of delirious excitement in which one reckons on miracles and deems himself almost a god because he is loved. However, he returned to Gargilesse without having made up his mind at what moment he would announce his sentiments to his family; for Gilberte had insisted that he should do nothing suddenly, and had received his promise to begin by gradually appealing to the affection of his parents, by governing his conduct in accordance with their wishes. Thus Emile was to make amends for an absence which had doubtless caused them some anxiety, by staying with them all the rest of the week and working zealously at whatever his father chose to give him to do. "You must not come to see us until next Sunday," Gilberte had said when they parted, "and then we will arrange our plans for the following week." The poor child felt that she must live from day to day, and, like Emile, she derived infinite pleasure from caressing in her thoughts the mystery of a love of which they alone realized the charm and the depth.