And he was probably still thinking of Sister Anne, when, on the day before he returned to Paris with his father, as he sat beside Constance in the garden, he took her hand and held it a long while in his. Constance did not withdraw her hand. She lowered her eyes, and seemed deeply moved. Frédéric said nothing, but he pressed her hand very tenderly; and the sweet-tempered girl, perhaps unconsciously, returned the pressure.
Thereupon the young man's embarrassment revived; he dropped the hand he held, and hastily moved away from Constance, who raised her head, and, observing his agitation, smiled at him with that indefinable charm which captures and enslaves.
"Are you really going to-morrow?" she said.
"I must," faltered Frédéric, returning to her side; "I should have gone sooner, I fear—— Ah! yes, it is she, always she, whom I see! I would like to stay with you forever; I am so happy here! Oh! forgive me, mademoiselle; I don't know where I am."
Constance was at a loss to understand this speech; but lovers never know what they say, or say it very badly; and she readily forgave him, because she interpreted it all according to her own heart, which told her that Frédéric loved her; and such sentiments always seem to be well expressed, for, in love, the eyes speak as loudly as the voice.
The count took his son back to Paris; but never a word concerning Constance! Ah! monsieur le comte, you have your project, and you are well aware what you are doing. A few days later, Frédéric said that they ought to take advantage of the last of the fine weather to call on the general; for he was burning to see Constance again—so that he could think of Sister Anne!
XX
LUNEL, DUBOURG, AND MADELON
We left Dubourg about to start for Paris. He no longer travelled as a Polish nobleman, but fared modestly on foot, with a stick in his hand, which he swung jauntily as if he were simply out for a walk. He had no bundle to carry, because he had his whole wardrobe on his back, which he found much more convenient for a pedestrian. He saw at a distance the localities where he had recently appeared in such magnificent and noble guise. He passed quite near to Monsieur Chambertin's house, waved his hand by way of salutation to that hospitable abode, and sighed—not for its mistress, but for the old pomard in the cellar.
However, he walked quickly, for he still dreaded a meeting with that infernal Durosey, whose presence he looked upon as the cause of all his misfortunes. As he emerged from a narrow pathway into the highroad, he found himself face to face with old Lunel, who was returning home in charge of an ass laden with divers objects he had bought at Grenoble. Dubourg hurriedly pulled his hat over his eyes and lowered his head, having no desire to be recognized by Monsieur Chambertin's jockey. But as he walked blindly on, he collided with the ass and nearly threw her down.
"Can't you see where you're going, idiot?" exclaimed Lunel; "the road isn't so narrow that you need to run into my donkey."