At this moment Jean’s attention was turned to the steps, where Paule had just appeared, so he did not see two tears gush from Madame Guibert’s eyes. When he looked at her she was already prepared for the new sacrifice which life asked of her, and it was in a firm voice that she said:
“May God bless your plans! Here is my girl, Jean. She has known loneliness and sorrow too long. She needs happiness. How happy she will be with your love! She will feel her youth, which she had forgotten. Jean, you may tell her that you love her.”
Then she added in lower tones—for Paule was coming nearer—and he did not hear her words:
“I give you my last, my dearest child.”
Tall and erect, Paule came across the courtyard and joined them under the shadow of the chestnuts. Her black dress made her look a little formal as she greeted the young man. He had risen and gone to meet her. A slight flush heightened her color, while her dark eyes lighted up. She kissed her mother:
“I have just come from the farm. We shall have the butter and eggs to-morrow.”
Madame Guibert gazed at them both with motherly eyes. She rose from the basket-chair where she had been sitting.
“I am going in to see about dinner. You will excuse me, Jean. How lovely it is this evening. You have not been out all day, Paule. You should have a walk together before the sun sets. Go as far as the Montcharvin wood and come back. Come back soon, my children!”
She could not resist calling them her children. She watched them go down the chestnut avenue side by side with rapid steps.
“How tall she is!” she said to herself. “He is only half a head taller than she. And he is very tall. A fine couple!”