One day our Camille arrived suddenly from Ham in a state of extraordinary agitation.
She threw herself on grandmother’s neck, where she remained a long while, sobbing. She whispered in her friend’s ear, who uttered many exclamations, many “Ohs!” and “Ahs!” intermingled with: “Camille, how happy you must be!” alternating with “Camille, how unhappy you are!”
Blondeau and I were present at this scene, of which, of course, we understood absolutely nothing.
My grandfather arrived. There were the same whisperings in his ear, the same exclamations, the same embraces, and again: “Camille, how happy you must be! Camille, how unhappy you are!”
“May the Supreme Being be blessed!” suddenly exclaimed my grandfather, in a solemn tone, for he never invoked the Supreme Being except on stormy days, when the thunder recalled the noise of cannon.
Something phenomenal was certainly happening. Not being curious, I had great respect for secrets, especially as my family kept few from me. I did not try to discover this secret, therefore, but I could not help thinking that some important person had been saved after great peril, and, strangely, that my godmother was at once happy and unhappy about it.
After dinner I said to Blondeau:
“Does this mystery interest you? Are you trying to understand something about it?”
“I understand it perfectly,” he replied.
“What is it?”