"Was he the same, think you?" asked Madeleine, eagerly.
"Yes, I am sure of it; and I come here to-day as his messenger,—or, rather, as the herald of his coming."
Madeleine trembled, in spite of herself. The thought of beholding Maurice once more, of conversing with him, of listening to him, affected her too strongly for her to be able even to assume indifference.
M. de Bois regarded her with an air of exultation.
"I have judged you rightly, then, and you are unchanged. Maurice is not less dear to you than"—
Madeleine's hand, appealingly lifted, checked him.
For a few moments she remained silent. When her tranquillity was somewhat restored, she said slowly, but in an altered tone,—
"You are the messenger of Maurice; what did he request you to say to me."
"He commissioned me to let you know that he earnestly desired an interview with you, at once,—and alone,—free from interruption. He entreats you to receive him to-day. I promised, as soon as I could make known to you his petition, that I would return to him with your answer;—he awaits it impatiently. What answer shall I give him?"
"He may come," answered Madeleine, in a tone of suppressed emotion.