“Mother, mother! my own darling mother!”
CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE MADAME’S QUEST IS ENDED.
“I cannot speak; tears so obstruct my words
And choke me with unutterable joy.”—Otway.
“Were my whole life to come one heap of troubles,
The pleasure of this moment would suffice,
And sweeten all my griefs with its remembrance.”—Lee.
Madame Le Conte had remained at home that day, had slept all the morning, and now, in the latter part of the afternoon, was occupying a lounging chair in her boudoir and amusing herself with a novel.