oman," in the same tone as
he always said, "Dominus vobiscum."

"Won't you have some dinner?" asked the vicomte in a perfectly ordinary
voice.

Jeanne, not thinking he was speaking to her, made no answer.

"You would feel much better if you would eat something," he went on
again.

"Let someone go for papa, directly," she said as if she had not heard
what he said; and he went out of the room to dispatch a mounted
messenger to Rouen.

Jeanne sank into a sort of stupor, as if she were waiting to give way to
her passion of regret until she should be alone with her mother. The
room became filled with shadows. The Widow Dentu moved noiselessly
about, arranging everything for the night, and at last lighted two
candles which she placed at the head of the bed on a small table covered
with a white cloth. Jeanne seemed unconscious of everything; she was
waiting until she should be alone.

When he had dined, Julien came upstairs again and asked for the second
time:

"Won't you have something to eat?"

His wife shook her head, and he sat down looking more resigned than sad,
and did not say anything more. They all three sat apart from one
another; the nurse dropped off to sleep every now and then, snored for a
little while, then awoke with a start. After some time Julien rose and
went over to his wife.

"Do you still want to be left alone?" he asked.

She eagerly took his hand in hers: "Oh, yes; do leave me," she answered.

He kissed her on the forehead, whispered, "I shall come and see you
during the night," then went away with the Widow Dentu, who wheeled her
armchair into the next room.

Jeanne closed the door and put both windows wide open. A warm breeze,
laden with the sweet smell of the hay, blew into the room, and on the
lawn, which had been mown the day before, she could see the heaps of dry
grass lying in the moonlight. She turned away from the window and went
back to the bed, for the soft, beautiful night seemed to mock her grief.

Her mother was no longer swollen as she had been when she died; she
looked simply asleep, only her sleep was more peaceful than it had ever
been before; the wind made the candles flicker, and the changing shadows
made the dead face look as though it moved and lived again. As Jeanne
gazed at it the memories of her early childhood came crowding into her
mind. She could see again her mother sitting in the convent parlor,
holding out the bag of cakes she had brought for her little gi