“Dear Ermance!” her mother would say as she gazed at her, “may you be happier than your parents!”
At such times, Adeline would devote a moment’s thought to Edouard, whom she believed to have died long since in destitution and despair. “Ah!” she would say sometimes to Jacques, when their eyes expressed the same thought, “if only I could think that he died repentant, I feel that I should have some slight consolation.”
Jacques would make no reply, but he would call Ermance and take her to Adeline, that the sight of her might dispel a painful memory. Jacques did not know that a mother always sees in her child the image of the man she has loved.
One lovely summer evening, Jacques was walking to and fro pensively at the end of the garden; Ermance, not very far from her uncle, was amusing herself by plucking flowers, and Adeline, seated a few steps away on the turf, looked on in silence at the graceful movements of her daughter. Suddenly Ermance, as she ran toward a clump of rose bushes, uttered a cry of alarm and stopped abruptly. Adeline ran to her daughter; Jacques also drew near, and they both inquired what had frightened her.
“Look, look!” replied the child, pointing to the end of the garden, “look, it is still there; that face frightened me.”
Jacques and Adeline looked in the direction indicated by Ermance, and saw behind the small gate covered with boards, in the same spot where the face with moustaches had appeared long ago, a man’s face gazing into the garden.
“What a strange coincidence!” said Adeline, looking at Jacques; “do you remember, my friend, that at that same spot, ten years ago, you appeared before us?”
“That is true,” said Jacques; “yes, I remember very well.”
“We must excuse Ermance’s alarm, for I remember that then you frightened me terribly! That man seems to be in trouble; come, my daughter, let us go and offer help to him, and don’t be afraid any more; the unfortunate should inspire pity and not fear.”
As she spoke, Adeline and Ermance approached the gate. The features of the man who stood on the other side seemed to become animated; he gazed at the young woman and her daughter, then he turned his eyes upon Jacques, passed an arm through the gate, and seemed to implore their pity. Adeline had drawn near; she scrutinized the beggar, then uttered a piteous cry, and returned to Jacques, pale, distressed, trembling, and hardly able to speak.