"Both arrived in Paris, I suppose. Why this hesitation, my dear Louis?"
"Your uncle and cousin did not come straight through to Paris. They stopped at Versailles, Florestan, at Versailles, where my poor father went to—"
But Louis could not finish the sentence. His emotion overcame him completely.
"Courage, my friend," said Saint-Herem, deeply affected, "I understand your feelings."
"Florestan," said the young man, drying his tears, after a long silence, "my father went to Versailles to meet your uncle and cousin."
"Well?"
"It was agreed that they were to accompany my father back to Paris. There is little doubt that they did so, and as it is almost certain that they were all in the same railway carriage—"
"They, too! Oh, that would be too horrible!" exclaimed Saint-Herem, covering his face with his hands.
The exclamation of horror and the tone of profound pity in Saint-Herem's voice were so sincere and so spontaneous that Louis was deeply touched by this proof of noble-heartedness on the part of his friend, who had manifested only a feeling of generous commiseration, without one particle of the satisfaction or selfish joy that might have been considered almost excusable under the circumstances.