intelligence and
future, is concerned. He is a promising young man. He will be a deputy
or a minister some day."

Mme. Walter, however, repeated wildly: "I will never let him marry
Suzanne! Do you hear--never!"

In his turn he became incensed, and like a practical man defended
Bel-Ami. "Be silent! I tell you he must marry her! And who knows?
Perhaps we shall not regret it! With men of his stamp one never knows
what may come about. You saw how he downed Laroche-Mathieu in three
articles, and that with a dignity which was very difficult to maintain
in his position as husband. So, we shall see."

Mme. Walter felt a desire to cry aloud and tear her hair. But she only
repeated angrily: "He shall not have her!"

Walter rose, took up his lamp, and said: "You are silly, like all
women! You only act on impulse. You do not know how to accommodate
yourself to circumstances. You are stupid! I tell you he shall marry
her; it is essential." And he left the room.

Mme. Walter remained alone with her suffering, her despair. If only a
priest were at hand! She would cast herself at his feet and confess all
her errors and her agony--he would prevent the marriage! Where could
she find a priest? Where should she turn? Before her eyes floated, like
a vision, the calm face of "Christ Walking on the Water," as she had
seen it in the painting. He seemed to say to her: "Come unto Me. Kneel
at My feet. I will comfort and instruct you as to what to do."

She took the lamp and sought the conservatory; she opened the door
leading into the room which held the enormous canvas, and fell upon her
knees before it. At first she prayed fervently, but as she raised her
eyes and saw the resemblance to Bel-Ami, she murmured: "Jesus--Jesus--"
while her thoughts were with her daughter and her lover. She uttered a
wild cry, as she pictured them together--alone--and fell into a swoon.
When day broke they found Mme. Walter still lying unconscious before
the painting. She was so ill, after that, that her life was almost
despaired of.

M. Walter explained his daughter's absence to the servants by saying to
them that she had been sent to a convent for a short time. Then he
replied to a long letter from Du Roy, giving his consent to his
marriage with his daughter. Bel-Ami had posted that epistle when he
left Paris, having prepared it the night of his departure. In it he
said in respectful terms that he had loved the young girl a long time;
that there had neve