"Once more then, my dear good mother, consult, I say, your own heart alone, and do not force me to take so painful a step.
"Your loving and respectful son,
"Paul."
Much touched at reading this letter, which had reached her in the absence of her daughter-in-law, Mme. Meyrin hurried to her son. Since the rupture with his family he had been living at his studio.
Paul opened the door to her.
"So, my son, you would leave me?" said the poor woman, sinking on to the sofa to which he had led her. "Between your old mother and a stranger you do not hesitate; your choice is at once made. Ah, I could curse the day you went to Russia. If I were to consent to your marriage, how could I live afterward with your sister-in-law? She would never forgive me my weakness."
"You shall come and live with us," said Paul, kneeling beside her. "Be sure that Lise and I will love you dearly."
"I could not, my son. Habits are not changed when one is my age. And, then, my love for Frantz is as great as my love for you. If I left him I should be ungrateful, for these ten years he has made my life a pleasant and happy one. You see, we are in a coil. Do you love this woman so much, then?"
"Yes, mother, I love her sincerely; I love her more now than I did before. Besides, it is my duty, having ruined her life, not to abandon her, alone as she is, without her children. You know that the prince has taken from her her little daughter—her daughter and mine."
"God is punishing you both."