"Yes, madame."
The man turned to go.
"Oh, I forgot," exclaimed Madame de Luceval, calling him back. "I want you to post this letter on your way."
"Has madame any other commissions?"
"No."
So Baptiste departed.
Madame d'Infreville understood and appreciated her friend's generosity in thus making herself an accessory to the deed.
"Thank you, thank you, my dearest Florence," she exclaimed, gratefully. "Heaven grant that your kindness may not prove unavailing."
"I hope it may not, indeed, but—"
"Florence, listen to me. The only way I can prove my gratitude for the great service you have just rendered me is to place myself at your mercy,—in other words, to conceal nothing from you. I ought to have done that at first, and then explained the object of this letter, instead of exacting this proof of your devotion and friendship; but I admit that I was afraid you would refuse my request and blame me when you learned that—"