"While my father is busy with his customers, I will run to Rue de Bretonvilliers."
"Oh, yes! do go, Ambroisine; it is not possible that Léodgard has received my letter and has not taken the slightest step toward consoling me. If he will simply come and tell me that he still loves me, that will give me strength to endure my suffering. Either the concierge has not seen him or she has forgotten to hand him my note."
"That is what I propose to find out."
"If he is at home, try to see him, to speak to him, to obtain an answer from him, so that I may at least know what my child's fate will be!"
"I know all that I am to say to him."
"But do not reproach him. You know how impatient, how quick-tempered he is! Avoid irritating him."
"I shall think of you, and, like you, I will be indulgent."
Ambroisine left the house. Bathilde hardly breathed all the time that she was absent. At last her friend returned, but her face did not announce cheerful news, and her voice trembled as she said to Bathilde:
"The concierge swore that she gave the letter to her master the day before yesterday, before night; she knows nothing more."
"And you did not see him?"