When the meal was over, Catherine stopped him between two doors. Mademoiselle had peremptorily expressed a wish to see him. She was waiting for him in the garden. He went out there, strode over the hedge, and knocking more or less against the trees, directed his steps towards M. Roque's house. Lights were glittering through a window in the second story then a form appeared in the midst of the darkness, and a voice whispered:
"'Tis I!"
She seemed to him taller than usual, owing to her black dress, no doubt. Not knowing what to say to her, he contented himself with catching her hands, and sighing forth:
"Ah! my poor Louise!"
She did not reply. She gazed at him for a long time with a look of sad, deep earnestness.
Frederick was afraid of missing the coach; he fancied that he could hear the rolling of wheels some distance away, and, in order to put an end to the interview without any delay:
"Catherine told me that you had something——"
"Yes—'tis true! I wanted to tell you——"
He was astonished to find that she addressed him in the plural; and, as she again relapsed into silence:
"Well, what?"