This astute calculation succeeded all the better because young Minard, who saw in Celeste nothing more than a "dot," had no such sudden inspiration, and was drinking his coffee and talking politics with Laudigeois, Monsieur Barniol, and Dutocq by order of his father, who was thinking and planning for the general election of the legislature in 1842.
"Who wouldn't love Celeste ?" said Felix to Madame Thuillier.
"Little darling, no one in the world loves me as she does," replied the poor slave, with difficulty restraining her tears.
"Ah! madame, we both love you," said the candid professor, sincerely.
"What are you saying to each other ?" asked Celeste, coming up.
"My child," said the pious woman, drawing her god-daughter down to her and kissing her on the forehead.

"He said that you both loved me." "Do not be angry with my presumption, mademoiselle.

Let me do all I can to prove it," murmured Felix.

"Ah! I cannot help it, I was made this way; injustice revolts me to the soul! Yes, the Saviour of men was right to promise the future to the meek heart, to the slain lamb! A man who did not love you, Celeste, must have adored you after that sublime impulse of yours at table.

Ah, yes! innocence alone can console the martyr.