It was growing dark; Adeline could not remain at the farm; everyone offered to escort her, but she selected Jacques, to show him that she harbored no unpleasant memories against him. He was secretly flattered by the preference. He took little Ermance on one arm and offered the other to the young woman, who bade the people at the farm adieu, and, delighted by their cordial welcome, promised to go again to see them.
They walked in silence at first. From time to time Jacques embraced pretty Ermance, who was only eight months old, but who smiled at the honest soldier, and passed her little hand over his moustaches.
“I am very sorry to give you so much trouble,” said Adeline, “but I did not think that I had gone so far.”
“Madame, it is a pleasure to me.”
“That child must tire you.”
“Tire me! No! ten thousand cannons!—Ah! I beg pardon; one should not swear before ladies.”
“It is very excusable in an old soldier.”
“You see, I am very fond of children; and this little one is really so pretty.”
“Ah me! she is my only consolation!” murmured Adeline.
Jacques could not hear, but he saw that she was sad, and he changed the subject.