"Yes, it is I," he replied, struck by the change in Isaure’s manner. "Didn’t you expect me?"
"Oh, yes, I felt sure that you would come."
"What is the matter, Isaure? What has happened to you? What has taken place here in the short time since I left you? For heaven’s sake, answer me."
Isaure seated herself in the living-room, and answered with a sigh:
"Nothing has taken place, nothing has happened to me."
"You are deceiving me, Isaure, you are not the same as usual. This depression, the tears which I still see in your eyes—Do you think that I can misunderstand them? Do you seek to deceive your lover? the man who adores you? Speak, I demand it! I implore you! What is this new mystery? Does it mean that you no longer love me?"
"Oh! I shall always love you," said Isaure, looking up at Edouard, with eyes filled with tears; "yes, always; although I have been told that I was doing wrong, that I was making a great mistake, to love you and to listen to you."
"Who has told you that?" cried Edouard.
"Oh! do not be angry, I implore you. Alas! it would do no good. My friend, forgive me for having inspired love in your heart; it was not my fault; but since I cannot be your wife, since we must renounce all the happiness which we had promised ourselves, forget me. I shall always love you; that will be henceforth my only sentiment, my only thought, my only comfort!"
The tears which flowed from the girl’s eyes seemed to bear witness to the sincerity of her grief. But Edouard, intensely excited, sprang to his feet and walked away from her, exclaiming: