Felicien was in despair. He was sure he understood the hidden meaning
in her words. It was he whom she had refused, as well as the work. As he
was about to go out of the room, he said to Hubert:

"As for the pay, you could have asked any price you wished. These ladies
gave me leave to offer as much as three thousand francs."

The household of the Huberts was in no way a selfish one; yet so great
a sum startled each member of it. The husband and wife looked at each
other inquiringly. Was it not a pity to lose so advantageous an offer?

"Three thousand francs," repeated Angelique, with her gentle voice; "did
you say three thousand francs, Monsieur?"

And she, to whom money was nothing, since she had never known its value,
kept back a smile, a mocking smile, which scarcely drew the corners of
her mouth, rejoicing that she need not seem to yield to the pleasure of
seeing him, and glad to give him a false opinion of herself.

"Oh, Monsieur, if you can give three thousand francs for it, then I
accept. I would not do it for everyone, but from the moment that one is
willing to pay so well, why, that is different. If it is necessary, I
can work on it at night, as well as during the day."

Hubert and Hubertine then objected, wishing to refuse in their turn, for
fear the fatigue might be too great for her.

"No," she replied. "It is never wise to send away money that is brought
to you. You can depend upon me, Monsieur. Your mitre will be ready the
evening before the procession."

Felicien left the design and bade them good-day, for he was greatly
disappointed, and he had no longer the courage to give any new
explanations in regard to the work, as an excuse for stopping longer.
What would he gain by doing so? It was certainly true that she did not
like him, for she had pretended not to recognise him, and had treated
him as she would any ordinary customer, whose money alone is good to
take. At first he was angry, as he accused her of being mean-spirited
and grasping. So much the better! It was ended between them, this
unspoken romance, and he would never think of her again. Then, as
he always did think of her, he at last excused her, for was she not
dependent upon her work to live, and ought she not to gain her bread?

Two days later he was very unhappy, and he began to wander around the
house, distressed that he could not see her. She no longer went out to
walk. She did not even go to the balcony, or to the window, as b