The poor Breton went down the hill to Havre and to his desk in Gobenheim's counting-room with a heavy heart; then, before returning to dinner, he went to see Latournelle, to tell his fears, and beg once more for the notary's advice and assistance.
"Yes, my dear friend," said Dumay, when they parted on the steps of the notary's door, "I now agree with madame; she loves,--yes, I am sure of it; and the devil knows the rest.

I am dishonored." "Don't make yourself unhappy, Dumay," answered the little notary.

"Among us all we can surely get the better of the little puss; sooner or later, every girl in love betrays herself,--you may be sure of that.

But we will talk about it this evening." Thus it happened that all those devoted to the Mignon family were fully as disquieted and uncertain as they were before the old soldier tried the experiment which he expected would be so decisive.

The ill-success of his past efforts so stimulated Dumay's sense of duty, that he determined not to go to Paris to see after his own fortune as announced by his patron, until he had guessed the riddle of Modeste's heart.