"I am speaking generally; but I am very certain that my Frédéric never did as so many thoughtless, heedless young men do! He is too sensitive, too loving, to try to deceive a young and inexperienced heart. See what horrible results such reckless conduct may have! This poor child, finding that she was enceinte, must have left her parents and fled from her native place. Without money, and bereft of that organ which is so necessary in the world, she travelled through city and country at random, and exposed to all the horrors of want. The unhappy creature! how she must have suffered! Oh! if you had seen her when I took her in, she would have made your heart ache. But she has found a friend now; I will not desert her, and, if I cannot make her altogether happy, she will not, at all events, have to dread want while she is with me."
Dubourg made no reply; the sight of Sister Anne gave him too much to think about.
"Your presence has renewed her grief by recalling her seducer," said Constance; "go away for a moment, and I will try to comfort her, although I am well aware that for such griefs there is no comfort. Could I enjoy a moment's happiness if Frédéric should forget me? But she has her son at least, and his caresses will allay her sorrow."
Constance carried little Frédéric to his mother and placed him on her knees, while Dubourg walked quickly back to the house and joined Ménard, who did not know what to think when he saw his former travelling companion's horrified expression.
"All is lost, Monsieur Ménard!" cried Dubourg, halting in front of the tutor.
"What? what is lost? King Stanislas's berlin or the King of Prussia's snuff-box? You know perfectly well that I am not to be taken in in that way again."
"Oh! let's hear no more of all that nonsense! This is a very serious matter, involving the happiness and peace of mind of Frédéric and his wife."
"I'll bet that it's not true; you're going to tell me some new fairy tale to lead me into a trap; but non me ludit amabilis insania."
"Will you listen to me, Monsieur Ménard? Morbleu! how could a man of your years fail to anticipate what has happened?"
"What do you mean by that? a man of my years! I beg that you will explain yourself, Monsieur Dubourg."