One question above all others had troubled her since the early morning, and had grieved her deeply.

Was she right in having sent away Felicien in despair, stabbed to the heart by her coldness, and with the thought that she did not love him?
She knew that she did love him, yet she had willingly caused him to suffer, and now in her turn she was suffering intensely.

Why should there be so much pain connected with love?
Did the saints wish for tears?
Could it be that Agnes, her guardian angel, was angry in the knowledge that she was happy?
Now, for the first time, she was distracted by a doubt.

Before this, whenever she thought of the hero she awaited, and who must come sooner or later, she had arranged everything much more satisfactorily.

When the right time arrived he was to enter her very room, where she would immediately recognise and welcome him, when they would both go away together, to be united for evermore.