It was as though she had broken through her thick cloud of hopeless sorrow, and was dawning forth into a happier life.

And so, whereas during her grief, he had revered and respected it even to a point of silent sympathy, now that she was gladdened, his heart rose on the wings of strengthened hopes.

Even in the dreary monotony of this existence in his Aunt Babette's conciergerie, Time had not failed in his work, and now, perhaps, soon he might humbly strive to help Time.

The very next day he returned--on some pretence of business--to the Hotel Duguesclin, and made his aunt's room, rather than his aunt herself, a present of roses and geraniums tied up in a bouquet with a tricolor ribbon.

Virginie was in the room, sitting at the coarse sewing she liked to do for Madame Babette.