“Friends only,” he replied, “until the day when you shall be my wife. You cannot forbid me to hope. You love no one?”
“No one.”
“Well since we are going to tread the path of life, let me think that we may find love at some turn of the road.”
She made no answer. And thus was sealed between them a treaty of friendship, to which they were to remain so strictly faithful, that the word “love” never once rose to their lips.
In appearance there was no change in their mode of life.
Every morning, at seven o’clock, Mlle. Lucienne went to M. Van Klopen’s, and an hour later Maxence started for his office. They returned home at night, and spent their evenings together by the fireside.
But what was easy to foresee now took place.
Weak and undecided by nature, Maxence began very soon to feel the influence of the obstinate and energetic character of the girl. She infused, as it were, in his veins, a warmer and more generous blood. Gradually she imbued him with her ideas, and from her own will gave him one.
He had told her in all sincerity his history, the miseries of his home, M. Favoral’s parsimony and exaggerated severity, his mother’s resigned timidity, and Mlle. Gilberte’s resolute nature.
He had concealed nothing of his past life, of his errors and his follies, confessing even the worst of his actions; as, for instance, having abused his mother’s and sister’s affection to extort from them all the money they earned.