"Yes, Peter; what is the matter?"
"My God, madame! it has astonished me so that I do not know what to answer."
"What is it, Peter? Explain yourself."
"Well, madame, it is this. There is a strange officer there; probably one belonging to the prince who now occupies the Élysée."
"Well?"
"This officer has a letter which he wishes to deliver himself, he says, into the hands of President Hubert, who must give an answer. I tried in vain to make this officer understand that monsieur was very sick. He assured me that it concerned a very important and very urgent matter, and that he came from his Highness who occupies the Élysée. Then, madame, in my embarrassment I have come to you to ask what I must do."
Madame Dutertre, forgetting her grievance, turned to Madeleine and said, quickly, with the greatest joy:
"Your hope has not been mistaken. This letter from the prince is, perhaps, his consent to this marriage. Poor Antonine, how happy she will be!"
"We must not rejoice too soon, dear Sophie. Let us wait. But do you go and see this officer, who is no doubt an aid of the prince. Tell him that M. Hubert, although a little better, is not able to receive him. Ask the officer to give you the letter, assuring him that you will deliver it at once to M. Hubert, who will send an answer."
"You are right, Madeleine. Come, Peter," said Sophie, going out of the room, accompanied by the old servant.