“Who is that woman?” she asked the children round about her; “and why did Francis leave you to go to her?” “The lady called him by name,” said a little girl. At that instant Madame Sauviat and Gerard, who had outstripped the rest of the company, came up. “Who is that woman, my dear child?” asked Madame Graslin as soon as Francis reached her. “I don’t know,” he answered; “but she kissed me as you and grandmamma kissed me--she cried,” whispered Francis in his mother’s ear. “Shall I go after her?” asked Gerard. “No!” said Madame Graslin, with an abruptness that was not usual in her. With a delicacy for which Veronique was grateful, Gerard led away the children and went back to detain the rest of the party, leaving Madame Sauviat, Madame Graslin, and Francis alone. “What did she say to you?” asked Madame Sauviat of her grandson. “I don’t know; she did not speak French.” “Couldn’t you understand anything she said?” asked Veronique. “No; but she kept saying over and over,--and that’s why I remember it,--_My dear brother_!” Veronique took her mother’s arm and led her son by the hand, but she had scarcely gone a dozen steps before her strength gave way. “What is the matter? what has happened?” said the others, who now came up, to Madame Sauviat. “Oh! my daughter is in danger!” said the old woman, in guttural tones. It was necessary to carry Madame Graslin to her carriage. She signed to Aline to get into it with Francis, and also Gerard. “You have been in England,” she said to the latter as soon as she recovered herself, “and therefore no doubt you speak English; tell me the meaning of the words, _my dear brother_.” On being told, Veronique exchanged a look with Aline and her mother which made them shudder; but they restrained their feelings. The shouts and joyous cries of those who were assisting in the departure of the carriages, the splendor of the setting sun as it lay upon the meadows, the perfect gait of the beautiful horses, the laughter of her friends as they followed her on horseback at a gallop,--none of these things roused Madame Graslin from her torpor. Her mother ordered the coachman to hasten his horses, and their carriage reached the chateau some time before the others. When the company were again assembled, they were told that Veronique had gone to her rooms and was unable to see any one. “I fear,” said Gerard to his friends, “that Madame Graslin has had some fatal shock.” “Where? how?” they asked. “To her heart,” he answered.