If the young woman had taken so much to heart what she regarded as an insult to the dignity of her son's former tutor, one can judge of her feelings when it was inflicted upon Henri David, whose disinterestedness merited such heartfelt gratitude. Consequently, it was with painful confusion that she opened the door of the garret room which she had done her best to make cosy and inviting. A small blue and white china vase containing a bouquet of chrysanthemums and late roses stood on the walnut table, the floor was of spotless whiteness, the white curtains were tied back with ribbons, in short, a desire to make the plainness of the apartment forgotten by dint of assiduous care and good-will was everywhere apparent.
"It is with deep regret, I assure you, that I am compelled to offer you this room," said Madame Bastien, "but my utter inability to place a more suitable apartment at your disposal must be my excuse."
Henri David could not repress a slight movement of surprise as he glanced around him, and, after a brief silence, he said, with a melancholy smile:
"By a singular chance, madame, this room strongly resembles one I occupied in boyhood beneath my father's roof, and it is pleasant to be thus reminded of the happiest years of my life."
When they went down-stairs they found supper ready.
"I am very much afraid that Frederick will refuse to come to the table this evening. Excuse me a moment, monsieur, while I go and call him."
Having learned from Marguerite that Frederick was in his room, Madame Bastien hastened there, and found her son thoughtfully pacing the room.
"Supper is ready, my son," his mother said. "Won't you come?"
"Thanks, I am not hungry, mother. I intend to go to bed almost immediately."
"You are not feeling ill, I trust?"