.

SAINT MARTIN'S EVE.
Uneasy in his mind, seeking some way to tell the thing and acquit himself of the painful task before him, Garnache took a turn in the apartment.
Mademoiselle leaned against the table, which was still burdened by the empty coffin, and observed him.

His ponderings were vain; he could find no way to tell, his story.

She had said that she did not exactly love this Florimond, that her loyalty to him was no more than her loyalty to her father's wishes.

Nevertheless, he thought, what manner of hurt must not her pride receive when she learned that Florimond had brought him home a wife?
Garnache was full of pity for her and for the loneliness that must be hers hereafter, mistress of a vast estate in Dauphiny, alone and friendless.