"You can understand that he couldn't quite say that."
"No, no, but he thinks it; that's enough. And he's coming? Mon Dieu! how does my hair look? it seems to me that this cap hides my forehead too much."
"You look very well; and, besides, doesn't a woman always look well to her lover?"
"Oh! my dear girl, in order to please, one must always try to look pretty."
And Fanny ran to a mirror; she arranged and rearranged her hair, took off her cap and put it on again; and finally tossed it aside, saying:
"I certainly look better without a cap."
"But, sister, I supposed that your mourning required——"
"My dear girl, I've been a widow more than six months; I have a right to arrange my head as I please, and when one has fine hair it's never a crime to show it."
During dinner, Fanny talked incessantly of Gustave; Adolphine said nothing; Monsieur Gerbault let his elder daughter talk on, but he kept a serious countenance and looked frequently at Adolphine. At the time that she fainted at the idea that Gustave was dead, a sudden light had shone in upon her father's mind; but he had made no sign; he respected his younger daughter's secret, although at the bottom of his heart he was the more deeply touched by her suffering, because he could see no way of putting an end to it.
The dinner seemed horribly long to Fanny; she asked for the coffee before her father had finished his dessert, and kept leaving the table to look at herself in the mirror. This manœuvre was repeated so often that Monsieur Gerbault could not resist the temptation to say to her, with a smile: