At last the coach drove up to the door. Lazare had stepped towards it, and had already opened his mouth to question Pauline, who had sprung down lightly, when he remained as if thunderstruck. Behind his cousin there appeared another young woman, dressed in striped lilac silk. Both girls were laughing together in the most friendly fashion. The young man's surprise was so great that he returned to his father, crying:
'She has brought Louise with her!'
'Louise! Ah, that's a capital idea!' Chanteau exclaimed.
And when the girls stood side by side before him, the one still in her deep mourning and the other in her gay summer toilette, he continued, delighted with this new distraction:
'Ah, so you have made peace! Well, I never quite understood what was the matter—some nonsense, I suppose. How naughty it was of you, my poor Louisette, to keep estranged from us during all the trouble we've been through! Well! it's all at an end now, eh?'
A feeling of embarrassment kept the girls silent. They blushed and avoided looking at each other. Then Louise stepped forward and kissed Chanteau to hide her confusion. But he wanted some explanations.
'You met each other, I suppose.'
Thereupon Louise turned towards her friend, while her eyes filled with tears.
'It was Pauline who came to see us. I was just going back into the house myself when she arrived. You mustn't scold her for staying the night with us, for it was my fault. I made her stay. And, as the telegraph goes no further than Arromanches, we thought we should get here ourselves as soon as any message. Do you forgive me?'
She kissed Chanteau again with all her old caressing manner. He inquired no further. When what happened contributed to his pleasure, he had no fault to find with it.