pressed the feeling; it was at once sad and sweet. She had lost her son, her big boy, but in return she had found a daughter, a grown-up daughter.
When they faced each other again, and were seated, they took hands and remained so, looking at each and smiling, while they seemed to have forgotten Jean.
Then they discussed a number of things which had to be thought of in view of an early marriage, and when everything was settled and decided Mme. Rosémilly seemed suddenly to remember a further detail and asked: "You have consulted M. Roland, I suppose?"
A flush of colour mounted at the same instant on the face of both mother and son. It was the mother who replied:
"Oh, no, it is quite unnecessary!" Then she hesitated, feeling that some explanation was needed, and added: "We do everything without saying anything to him. It is enough to tell him what we have decided on."
Mme. Rosémilly, not in the least surprised, only smiled, taking it as a matter of course, for the good man counted for so little.
When Mme. Roland was in the street again with her son she said:
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