aint
Jouain which I am anxious to carry home with me."

She put on an innocent and knowing look.

"You? What can it be? What can you have found?"

"A wife. And my mother and I have come to ask you whether she had
changed her mind this morning."

She smiled: "No, monsieur. I never change my mind."

And then he held out his hand, wide open, and she put hers into it with
a quick, determined movement. Then he said: "As soon as possible, I
hope."

"As soon as you like."

"In six weeks?"

"I have no opinion. What does my future mother-in-law say?"

Mme. Roland replied with a rather melancholy smile:

"I? Oh, I can say nothing. I can only thank you for having accepted
Jean, for you will make him very happy."

"We will do our best, mamma."

Somewhat overcome, for the first time, Mme. Rosemilly rose, and throwing
her arms round Mme. Roland, kissed her a long time as a child of her own
might have done; and under this new embrace the poor woman's sick heart
swelled with deep emotion. She could not have expressed the feeling;
it was at once sad and sweet. She had lost her son, her big boy, but in
return she had found a daughter, a grown-up daughter.

When they faced each other again, and were seated, they took hands and
remained so, looking at each and smiling, while they seemed to have
forgotten Jean.

Then they discussed a number of things which had to be thought of in
view of an early marriage, and when everything was settled and decided
Mme. Rosemilly seemed suddenly to remember a further detail and asked:
"You have consulted M. Roland, I suppose?"

A flush of colour mounted at the same instant on the face of both mother
and son. It was the mother who replied:

"Oh, no, it is quite unnecessary!" Then she hesitated, feeling that
some explanation was needed, and added: "We do everything without saying
anything to him. It is enough to tell him what we have decided on."

Mme. Rosemilly, not in the least surprised, only smiled, taking it as a
matter of course, for the good man counted for so little.

When Mme. Roland was in the street again with her son she said:

"Suppose we go to your rooms for a little while. I should be glad to
rest."

She felt herself homeless, shelterless, her own house being a terror to
her.

They went into Jean's apartments.

As soon as the door was closed upon her she heaved a deep sigh, as if
that bolt had placed her in safety, but then, instead of resting as she
had said, she