The doctor's wife replied: "Yes, the idea was mine."
They continued their walk. Louise and Gontran gradually quickened their steps, went on in advance, and rambled so far together that they disappeared from view at a turn of the narrow path.
The fat lady, who was breathing hard, murmured, as she cast an indulgent eye in their direction: "Bah! they're young—they have legs. As for me, I can't keep up with them."
Charlotte exclaimed: "Wait! I'm going to call them back!"
She was rushing away. The doctor's wife held her back: "Don't interfere with them, child, if they want to chat! It would not be nice to disturb them. They will come back all right by themselves."
And she sat down on the grass, under the shade of a pine-tree, fanning herself with her pocket-handkerchief. Charlotte cast a look of distress toward Paul, a look imploring and sorrowful.
He understood, and said: "Well, Mademoiselle, we are going to let Madame take a rest, and we'll both go and overtake your sister."
She answered impetuously: "Oh, yes, Monsieur."
Madame Honorat made no objection: "Go, my children, go. As for me, I'll wait for you here. Don't be too long."
And they started off in their turn. They walked quickly at first, as they could see no sign of the two others, and hoped to come up with them; then, after a few minutes, it struck them that Louise and Gontran might have turned off to the right or to the left through the wood, and Charlotte began to call them in a trembling and undecided voice. There was no response. She exclaimed: "Oh! good heavens, where can they be?"