“He is upstairs,” said the stove-fitter. “I will go up and tell him to come down.”
Adeline lowered her veil and took a seat. A heavy step made the narrow stairs creak, and Adeline could not restrain a piercing cry when she saw her husband, Baron Hulot, in a gray knitted jersey, old gray flannel trousers, and slippers.
“What is your business, madame?” said Hulot, with a flourish.
She rose, seized Hulot by the arm, and said in a voice hoarse with emotion:
“At last—I have found you!”
“Adeline!” exclaimed the Baron in bewilderment, and he locked the shop door. “Joseph, go out the back way,” he added to the stove-fitter.
“My dear!” she said, forgetting everything in her excessive joy, “you can come home to us all; we are rich. Your son draws a hundred and sixty thousand francs a year! Your pension is released; there are fifteen thousand francs of arrears you can get on showing that you are alive. Valerie is dead, and left you three hundred thousand francs.
“Your name is quite forgotten by this time; you may reappear in the world, and you will find a fortune awaiting you at your son’s house. Come; our happiness will be complete. For nearly three years I have been seeking you, and I felt so sure of finding you that a room is ready waiting for you. Oh! come away from this, come away from the dreadful state I see you in!”
“I am very willing,” said the bewildered Baron, “but can I take the girl?”
“Hector, give her up! Do that much for your Adeline, who has never before asked you to make the smallest sacrifice. I promise you I will give the child a marriage portion; I will see that she marries well, and has some education. Let it be said of one of the women who have given you happiness that she too is happy; and do not relapse into vice, into the mire.”