stooping, and
holding with her beautiful hands the clothing so carelessly thrown over
her, she still listened at the keyhole.

Hubertine, hearing nothing more, not even a sigh, did not like to call
again. She was very sure that she had heard sobs; but if the child had
at last been able to sleep, what good would it do to awaken her? She
waited, however, another moment, troubled by the thought of a grief
which her daughter hid from her, confusedly imagining what it might
be from the tender emotion with which her heart seemed filled from
sympathy. At last she concluded to go down as she had come up, quietly,
her hands being so familiar with every turning that she needed no
candle, and leaving behind her no other sound than the soft, light touch
of her bare feet.

Then, sitting up in bed, Angelique in her turn listened. So profound
was the outward silence that she could clearly distinguish the slight
pressure of the heel on the edge of each step of the stairway. At the
foot, the door of the chamber was opened, then closed again; afterward,
she heard a scarcely-distinct murmur, an affectionate, yet sad blending
of voices in a half-whisper. No doubt it was what her father and mother
were saying of her; the fears and the hopes they had in regard to her.
For a long time that continued, although they must have put out their
light and gone to bed.

Never before had any night sounds in this old house mounted in this way
to her ears. Ordinarily, she slept the heavy, tranquil sleep of youth;
she heard nothing whatever after placing her head upon her pillow;
whilst now, in the wakefulness caused by the inner combat against an
almost overpowering sentiment of affection which she was determined to
conquer, it seemed to her as if the whole house were in unison with
her, that it was also in love, and mourned like herself. Were not the
Huberts, too, sad, as they stilled their tears and thought of the child
they had lost long ago, whose place, alas! had never been filled? She
knew nothing of this in reality, but she had a sensation in this warm
night of the watch of her parents below her, and of the disappointment
in their lives, which they could not forget, notwithstanding their great
love for each other, which was always as fresh as when they were young.

Whilst she was seated in this way, listening in the house that trembled
and sighed, Angelique lost all self-control, and again the tears rolled
down her face, silently, but warm an