“Ah, but you know I should always be here.”
Jeanne had taken up a boat which she was twisting into a gendarme’s hat. “You would need to get mamma’s leave,” she murmured.
By this reply all his fears were again stirred into life. His fate was being decided.
“Of course,” said he. “But if mamma gave me leave, would you say yes, too?”
Jeanne, busy finishing her gendarme’s hat, sang out in a rapturous strain: “I would say yes! yes! yes! I would say yes! yes! yes! Come, look how pretty my hat is!”
Monsieur Rambaud, with tears in his eyes, rose to his knees and kissed her, while she threw her arms round his neck. He had entrusted the asking of Hélène’s consent to his brother, whilst he himself sought to secure that of Jeanne.
“You see,” said the priest, with a smile, “the child is quite content.”
Hélène still retained her grave air, and made no further inquiry. The Abbé, however, again eloquently took up his plea, and emphasized his brother’s good qualities. Was he not a treasure-trove of a father for Jeanne? She was well acquainted with him; in trusting him she gave no hostages to fortune. Then, as she still remained silent, the Abbé with great feeling and dignity declared that in the step he had taken he had not thought of his brother, but of her and her happiness.
“I believe you; I know how you love me,” Hélène promptly answered. “Wait; I want to give your brother his answer in your presence.”
The clock struck ten. Monsieur Rambaud made his entry into the bedroom. With outstretched hands she went to meet him.