"Well, we must part, my good nurse," she continued. "Embrace me as you used to do when I was a child, you know, in the old, old happy days."
While Aloyse, unable to utter a word, held Diane close to her breast,—
"Oh, watch over him! take good care of him!" she said in the nurse's ear.
"As I did when he was a child, in the old, old happy days," said Aloyse.
"Oh, better, even better, Aloyse! In that time he was not in such sore need."
Diane left the house without having met Gabriel, and half an hour later she was safely in her apartments at the Louvre. But if she had no reason to feel disturbed at the result of the hazardous step she had taken, her anguish and dread on the subject of Gabriel's unknown designs were even greater than before.
The forebodings of a woman's loving heart are apt to be only too accurate forecasts of the future.
Gabriel did not return home until the day was well advanced. The heat was intense, and he was wearied in body and mind.
But when Aloyse uttered Diane's name and told of her visit, he stood erect with new life, his chest heaving and his heart throbbing.
"What did she want? What did she say? What did she do? Oh, why was I not here? Come, tell me everything, Aloyse,—every word, every movement."