In the meantime, _au revoir_." Monsieur de Lucan locked himself up in his library.

An hour later, Clotilde came to join him.
He could see that she had wept a great deal; but she held out her forehead to him with her sweetest smile.

While he was kissing her, she murmured simply and in a whisper: "Forgive her for my sake!" And the charming creature withdrew in haste to hide her emotions.
The next morning, Monsieur de Lucan, who, as usual, had risen quite early, had been writing for some time near the library window, which opened at quite a moderate height on the garden.

He was not a little surprised to see his step-daughter's face appear among the honeysuckle vines that crept over the iron trellis of the balcony: "Monsieur," she said in her most melodious tone, "are you very busy ?" "Oh, not at all!" he replied, rising at the same time.
"It's because, you see, the weather is perfectly delightful," she said.
"Will you come and take a walk with me ?" "Of course I will." "Well, come then.

Good Heavens! how sweet this honeysuckle does smell!" And she snatched off a few flowers, which she threw to Lucan through the window, with a burst of laughter.