Then the doctor was angry in his turn. “Oh, go then,” said he, “go to Frejus; you will have Edouard Riviere for a companion this time. Your first visit roused his suspicions. So before you go tell your mother all; for since she is sure to find it out, she had better hear it from you than from another.”
“Doctor, have pity on me,” said Josephine.
“You have no heart,” said Rose. “She shall see him though, in spite of you.”
“Oh, yes! he has a heart,” said Josephine: “he is my best friend. He will let me see my boy.”
All this, and the tearful eyes and coaxing yet trembling voice, was hard to resist. But Aubertin saw clearly, and stood firm. He put his handkerchief to his eyes a moment: then took the pining young mother’s hand. “And, do you think,” said he, “I do not pity you and love your boy? Ah! he will never want a father whilst I live; and from this moment he is under my care. I will go to see him; I will bring you news, and all in good time; I will place him where you shall visit him without imprudence; but, for the present, trust a wiser head than yours or Rose’s; and give me your sacred promise not to go to Frejus.”
Weighed down by his good-sense and kindness, Josephine resisted no longer in words. She just lifted her hands in despair and began to cry. It was so piteous, Aubertin was ready to yield in turn, and consent to any imprudence, when he met with an unexpected ally.
“Promise,” said Rose, doggedly.
Josephine looked at her calmly through her tears.
“Promise, dear,” repeated Rose, and this time with an intonation so fine that it attracted Josephine’s notice, but not the doctor’s. It was followed by a glance equally subtle.
“I promise,” said Josephine, with her eye fixed inquiringly on her sister.