n's fingers trembled so they could no longer hold the work; her
ball of wool rolled across the floor, and, hiding her face in her hands,
she began to sob convulsively. For a moment Jeanne and the vicomte stood
looking at her in mute surprise, then Jeanne, feeling frightened, knelt
down beside her, drew away her hands from her face, and asked in dismay:

"What is it, Aunt Lison? What is the matter with you?"

The poor, old maid, trembling all over, stammered out in a broken voice:

"When he asked you--'Are--are not your dear little feet--cold?'--I--I
thought how no one had--had ever said anything like that to me."

Jeanne felt full of pity for her aunt, but it seemed very funny to think
of anyone making love to Lison, and the vicomte turned his head away to
hide his laughter. Lison started up, left her wool on the ground and her
knitting on the armchair, and abruptly leaving the room, groped her way
up the dark staircase to her bedroom.

The two young people looked at one another, feeling sorry for her, and
yet rather amused.

"Poor auntie," murmured Jeanne.

"She must be a little mad this evening," replied Julien.

They were holding each other's hands as if they could not make up their
minds to say good-night, and very gently they exchanged their first kiss
before Aunt Lison's empty chair. The next day they had forgotten all
about the old maid's tears.

The fortnight before her marriage, Jeanne passed calmly and peacefully,
as if she were almost exhausted by the number of pleasant hours she had
lately had. The morning of the eventful day she had no time to think;
she was only conscious of a great sense of nothingness within her, as if
beneath her skin, her flesh, and blood, and bones had vanished, and she
noticed how her fingers trembled when she touched anything.

She did not regain her self-possession till she was going through the
marriage service. Married! She was married! Everything which had
happened since dawn seemed a dream, and all around her seemed changed;
people's gestures had a new meaning; even the hours of the day did not
seem to be in their right places. She felt stunned at the change. The
day before nothing had been altered in her life; her dearest hope had
only become nearer--almost within her grasp. She had fallen asleep a
girl, now she was a woman. She had crossed the barrier which hides the
future with all its expected joys and fancied happiness, and she saw
before her an open door; she wa