And thereupon, without waiting for a reply, she left them, running towards the old woman, who was on the point of entering the Passage des Eaux. Mother Fétu clutched at the coin, calling upon all the angels of Heaven to bless her. As she spoke, however, she grasped the child’s hand and detained her by her side, then asking in changed tones:
“The other lady is ill, is she not?”
“No,” answered Jeanne, surprised.
“May Heaven shield her! May it shower its favors on her and her husband! Don’t run away yet, my dear little lady. Let me say an Ave Maria for your mother’s sake, and you will join in the ‘Amen’ with me. Oh! your mother will allow you; you can catch her up.”
Meanwhile Henri and Hélène trembled as they found themselves suddenly left alone in the shadow cast by a line of huge chestnut trees that bordered the road. They quietly took a few steps. The chestnut trees had strewn the ground with their bloom, and they were walking upon this rosy-tinted carpet. On a sudden, however, they came to a stop, their hearts filled with such emotion that they could go no farther.
“Forgive me,” said Henri simply.
“Yes, yes,” ejaculated Hélène. “But oh! be silent, I pray you.”
She had felt his hand touch her own, and had started back. Fortunately Jeanne ran towards them at the moment.
“Mamma, mamma!” she cried; “she made me say an Ave; she says it will bring you good luck.”
The three then turned into the Rue Vineuse, while Mother Fétu crept down the steps of the Passage des Eaux, busy completing her rosary.