"Madeleine, now what is the matter with you?"
"Nothing, my friend. I am thinking of the happiness of poor Antonine,—that is, if my hopes do not deceive me."
"Ah, her happiness she will owe to you! With what enthusiastic delight she and Count Frantz will thank you! Will you not have been their special providence?"
At the name of Frantz, Madeleine started, blushed slightly, and a cloud passed over her brow. Sophie had not time to perceive the emotion of her friend, as Antonine rushed suddenly out of the adjoining chamber, her charming face radiant with an expression of joy and surprise impossible to describe. Then, without uttering a word, she threw herself on Madeleine's neck; but her emotion was excessive; she suddenly turned pale, and the two friends were obliged to support her.
"God be praised!" said Sophie, "for, in spite of your pallor and agitation, my poor Antonine, I am certain you have good news."
"Do not tremble so, dear child," said Madeleine, in her turn. "Recover yourself! Calm yourself!"
"Oh, if you only knew!" murmured the young girl. "No, no, I cannot believe it yet."
The Marquise de Miranda, taking Antonine's hands affectionately in her own, said to her:
"You must always believe in happiness, my child. But come now, explain what you mean."
"Just now," the young girl went on to say, with a voice broken by tears of joy, "I carried the letter to my uncle. He said to me: 'Antonine, my sight is very weak; read this letter to me, please.' Then I broke the seal of the envelope; I did not know why my heart beat with such violence, but it palpitated so I felt sick. Wait, it is beating now," added the young girl, putting her hand on her side, as if she would restrain the rapid pulsations which interrupted her narrative. Then she continued: