“Good afternoon, Jean. Your uncle has just been to see me. Did you know it?”
“Yes, Madame, he came with a message that he forgot to give you. For him that is nothing.”
“Oh, don’t be hard on him!”
And with a timid grace she took the young man’s hand in hers.
“Be easy in your mind. I am acquainted with the language of flowers!”
They sat down by the stone table under the trees. Jean kissed her hand. They understood each other already.
“So you know that I love her?” asked Jean with emotion. Then in a firmer voice he added:
“How could I help loving her, Madame?”
“She is worthy of it,” answered Paule’s mother, who was thinking of the new future.
“I think I have always loved her. Only I did not know my mind. When one is too young, one cannot clearly distinguish the plan of one’s life. And I shall love her for ever.”