"Never mind that," the lady interrupted him; "there, shake hands and think that I am your mother!"
"You my mother?" said Coucou laughing, with tears in his eyes; "oh, no such thing; then you must act differently! When I took leave of my poor mother, she took hold of my head and kissed me heartily on both cheeks! I believe I have to thank these kisses that I still carry my head between my shoulders!"
Madame Caraman wiped a tear from her eye, and then she took the head of the Zouave between her hands and did exactly like his mother.
"Hurrah, Mother Caraman," called out Coucou joyfully; "you are an excellent mother! Farewell, and if God spares me, I hope we may meet again!"
"I hope so, my boy," said Madame Caraman with faltering voice. "God protect you and grant that you may again find your captain! It will all be right in course of time—adieu!"
The Zouave made two long strides in getting downstairs, and in a moment he had reached and climbed the garden-wall. Placing himself upon it, he swung his cap, and calling aloud, "Adieu, Mother Caraman," disappeared.
"A real Parisian boy," muttered Madame Caraman to herself: "a hot-headed fellow with a golden heart. It would grieve me should I not see him again."
A soft hand now touched the lady's shoulder, and looking up she perceived her protégée, who stood before her smiling.
"Is it you, Clary," said the companion rather awkwardly, while she changed color and became red and white, by turns, "you have then—"