“Oh! why do you think so much for me?” protested Eve, giving him a divinely sweet smile that belied her words. “Mamma, dear,” said David, “just tell M. Postel that I will put my name to the bill, for I can tell from your face, Lucien, that you have quite made up your mind to go.” Lucien’s head sank dejectedly; there was a little pause, then he said, “Do not think hardly of me, my dear, good angels.” He put his arms about Eve and David, and drew them close, and held them tightly to him as he added, “Wait and see what comes of it, and you shall know how much I love you. What is the good of our high thinking, David, if it does not enable us to disregard the petty ceremonial in which the law entangles our affections? Shall I not be with you in spirit, in spite of the distance between us? Shall we not be united in thought? Have I not a destiny to fulfil? Will publishers come here to seek my _Archer of Charles IX._ and the _Marguerites_? A little sooner or a little later I shall be obliged in any case to do as I am doing to-day, should I not? And shall I ever find a better opportunity than this? Does not my success entirely depend upon my entrance on life in Paris through the Marquise d’Espard’s salon?” “He is right,” said Eve; “you yourself were saying, were you not, that he ought to go to Paris at once?” David took Eve’s hand in his, and drew her into the narrow little room where she had slept for seven years. “Love, you were saying just now that he would want two thousand francs?” he said in her ear. “Postel is only lending one thousand.” Eve gave her betrothed a look, and he read all her anguish in her eyes. “Listen, my adored Eve, we are making a bad start in life. Yes, my expenses have taken all my capital; I have just two thousand francs left, and half of it will be wanted to carry on the business. If we give your brother the thousand francs, it will mean that we are giving away our bread, that we shall live in anxiety. If I were alone, I know what I should do; but we are two. Decide for us.” Eve, distracted, sprang to her lover’s arms, and kissed him tenderly, as she answered through her tears: “Do as you would do if you were alone; I will work to earn the money.” In spite of the most impassioned kiss ever given and taken by betrothed lovers, David left Eve overcome with trouble, and went out to Lucien. “Do not worry yourself,” he said; “you shall have your two thousand francs.” “Go in to see Postel,” said Mme. Chardon, “for you must both give your signatures to the bill.” When Lucien and David came back again unexpectedly, they found Eve and her mother on their knees in prayer. The women felt sure that Lucien’s return would bring the realization of many hopes; but at the moment they could only feel how much they were losing in the parting, and the happiness to come seemed too dearly bought by an absence that broke up their life together, and would fill the coming days with innumerable fears for Lucien.