When she returned after a while, she found Denoisel in the room.
"You have been out? And where have you been?"
"Well, if you want to know, I have been to church to pray that I may die before father. I knelt before a statue of the Virgin. And, you may laugh, but it seemed to me that she nodded at my request. And it made me quite happy."
The conversation drifted to gayer topics, and the two soon fell into their wonted tone of banter. "Tell me, Renée," said Denoisel, "have you never felt, I won't say love, but some sentiment for anybody?"
"Never. That sort of thing only occurs when the heart is empty. But when it is defended by the affection one feels for a father--as a child I felt perhaps the beginning of that emotion of which one reads in novels. And do you know for whom?"
"No."
"For you. Oh, only for a moment. I soon loved you differently for having corrected the spoilt child of its faults, for having directed my attention to noble and beautiful things. And I resolved to repay you by true friendship."
M. Mauperin entered the room, and interrupted the confidences.
A few days later, Renée having set her mind upon playing in private theatricals, a discussion arose about the filling of the second lady's part in the play that had been chosen. One by one the names suggested were dismissed, until Henri said, "Why not ask Mlle. Bourjot? They are just staying at Sannois."
"Noémi?" replied Renée. "I'd love it. But she, was so cold towards me last winter. I don't know why."