der that he might cut out some paper men.

Down below, at the street corner, Constance, in great impatience, was
looking out of the cab window, watching the house-door.

"Well?" she asked, quivering, as soon as Mathieu was near her.

"Well, the mother knows nothing and has seen nobody. It was a foregone
conclusion."

She sank down as if from some supreme collapse, and her ashen face
became quite distorted. "You are right, it was certain," said she;
"still one always hopes." And with a gesture of despair she added: "It
is all ended now. Everything fails me, my last dream is dead."

Mathieu pressed her hand and remained waiting for her to give an address
in order that he might transmit it to the driver. But she seemed to have
lost her head and to have forgotten where she wished to go. Then, as she
asked him if he would like her to set him down anywhere, he replied
that he wished to call on the Seguins. The fear of finding herself alone
again so soon after the blow which had fallen on her thereupon gave her
the idea of paying a visit to Valentine, whom she had not seen for some
time past.

"Get in," she said to Mathieu; "we will go to the Avenue d'Antin
together."

The vehicle rolled off and heavy silence fell between them; they had
not a word to say to one another. However, as they were reaching their
destination, Constance exclaimed in a bitter voice: "You must give my
husband the good news, and tell him that the boy has disappeared. Ah!
what a relief for him!"

Mathieu, on calling in the Avenue d'Antin, had hoped to find the Seguins
assembled there. Seguin himself had returned to Paris, nobody knew
whence, a week previously, when Andree's hand had been formally asked
of him; and after an interview with his uncle Du Hordel he had evinced
great willingness and cordiality. Indeed, the wedding had immediately
been fixed for the month of May, when the Froments also hoped to marry
off their daughter Rose. The two weddings, it was thought, might take
place at Chantebled on the same day, which would be delightful. This
being arranged, Ambroise was accepted as fiance, and to his great
delight was able to call at the Seguins' every day, about five o'clock,
to pay his court according to established usage. It was on account of
this that Mathieu fully expected to find the whole family at home.

When Constance asked for Valentine, however, a footman informed her that
Madame had gone out. And when Mathieu in his turn asked f