Modeste resolved to receive the postman herself on the steps of the Chalet at the hour when he made his delivery.
As to the feelings that this reply, in which the noble heart of poor La Briere beat beneath the brilliant phantom of Canalis, excited in Modeste, they were as multifarious and confused as the waves which rushed to die along the shore while with her eyes fixed on the wide ocean she gave herself up to the joy of having (if we dare say so) harpooned an angelic soul in the Parisian Gulf, of having divined that hearts of price might still be found in harmony with genius, and, above all, for having followed the magic voice of intuition.
A vast interest was now about to animate her life.

The wires of her cage were broken: the bolts and bars of the pretty Chalet--where were they?
Her thoughts took wings.
"Oh, father!" she cried, looking out to the horizon.

"Come back and make us rich and happy." The answer which Ernest de La Briere received some five days later will tell the reader more than any elaborate disquisition of ours..