The landlady was a kind, good woman, and though she but half understood the case, she was truly sorry for them, as foreigners, and the mother sick in a strange land.
"I sent her forwards to request permission for my entrance.

In a moment I saw Clement--a tall, elegant young man, in a curious dress of coarse cloth, standing at the open door of a room, and evidently--even before he accosted me--striving to soothe the terrors of his mother inside.

I went towards him, and would have taken his hand, but he bent down and kissed mine.
"'May I come in, madame ?' I asked, looking at the poor sick lady, lying in the dark, dingy bed, her head propped up on coarse and dirty pillows, and gazing with affrighted eyes at all that was going on.
"'Clement! Clement! come to me!' she cried; and when he went to the bedside she turned on one side, and took his hand in both of hers, and began stroking it, and looking up in his face.

I could scarce keep back my tears.
"He stood there quite still, except that from time to time he spoke to her in a low tone.

At last I advanced into the room, so that I could talk to him, without renewing her alarm.