"Oh, mother, mother," murmured Gerald, in accents of ineffable gratitude, as he fell upon his knees beside Herminie, and covered her cold hands with tears and kisses.
"You have done wisely," the marquis said, in low tones, to Madame de Senneterre. "It is adoration that your son will feel for you now."
That same instant, seeing Herminie make a slight movement, Gerald exclaimed, joyfully:
"She is recovering consciousness!"
Then, in a thrilling voice, he cried:
"Herminie, it is I. It is Gerald!"
On hearing M. de Senneterre's voice, Herminie gave a slight start, then slowly opened her eyes, which seemed at first fixed and troubled, like the eyes of one awaking from a dream.
Then the sort of mist which seemed to obscure her mental faculties faded away, and the girl slowly raised her head, which had been reposing on Madame de Senneterre's bosom, and looked around her.
To her intense astonishment, she saw that Gerald's mother was supporting her in her arms and watching her with the tenderest solicitude.
Believing she was still in a dream, Herminie hastily raised herself, and passed her burning hands over her eyes, after which her gaze, as it became more and more assured, was directed, first upon M. de Maillefort, who was gazing at her with ineffable delight, and then upon Gerald, who was still kneeling before her.