"I know it," replied Thérèse; "but why do you say that, my friend? Are you ill, too? Have you forgotten that my word is pledged to you?"
Palmer kissed her hand and smiled. Peace re-entered his soul.
On the next day, Laurent came and told them that he intended to go to Switzerland to complete his cure. The climate of Italy did not agree with him: that was the truth. The physicians advised him not to wait until the extremely hot weather.
It was definitely decided that they should part at Florence. Thérèse had no other plans than to go where Laurent did not go; but, when she saw how exhausted he was by the emotion of the preceding day, she had to promise him to pass another week at Florence, in order to prevent him from going away before he regained the necessary strength.
That week was, perhaps, the best in Laurent's whole life. Generous, trustful, cordial, and sincere, he had entered upon a frame of mind which he had never before known, even during the first week of his union with Thérèse. Affection had penetrated him, invaded him, vanquished him. He would not leave his two friends, but drove with them to the Cascines, at the hours when there was no crowd there, ate with them, took a childish delight in going to dine with them in the country, when Thérèse would take his arm and Palmer's alternately, tried his strength by fencing a little with the latter, accompanied them to the theatre, and made Dick the great tourist trace the itinerary of his trip to Switzerland. It was a very important question whether he should go by Milan or Genoa. He decided at last on the latter route, intending to go by Pisa and Lucca, thence along the shore, by land or water, according as he should feel stronger or weaker after the first few days of travelling.
The day appointed for his departure arrived. Laurent had made all his preparations with melancholy gaiety. Brimming over with jests concerning his costume, concerning his luggage, concerning the mongrel aspect he would present in a certain waterproof cloak, then a great novelty, which Palmer had compelled him to accept, and concerning the barbarous French of an Italian servant whom Palmer had selected for him, and who was the best fellow in the world; accepting gratefully and humbly all Thérèse's injunctions and attentions, he had tears in his eyes, while he laughed most heartily.
On the night preceding this last day, he had a slight attack of fever. He jested about it. The carriage in which he was to travel by slow stages, was at the door. It was a cool morning. Thérèse was anxious.
"Go with him as far as Spezzia," Palmer said to her. "That is where he is to take the boat, if he doesn't stand the carriage journey well. I will join you there the day after he has left. Some very urgent business will detain me here twenty-four hours."
Thérèse, surprised by this suggestion, refused to go with Laurent.
"I beg you to do it," said Palmer, with much earnestness; "it is impossible for me to go with you!"