,
get on with your task. I am the school mistress to see that you write
properly!"
The smile she brought to Esperance's lips chased away the nebulous
uncertainties, and so she wrote her letter to her dear little
"Countess-mama," as she had called her since her engagement. When her
mother came with the philosopher's message and saw the letter, she was
delighted with the phrasing and thanked her daughter warmly for the
joy it would give her father.
"Ah! mama, I believe that I am the happiest of the three Darbois, dear
ridiculous mama!" And she gave her a quick embrace.
Life was again travelling the simple, daily country round. It was
after lunch, three days after Esperance had written her letter.
"Why so pensive, little daughter? Where were your thoughts?"
Esperance jumped up at this question from her father.
"I was dreaming. I am so sorry. I was in Belgium, near the Countess
Styvens when my letter would be brought in to her, for, as nearly as I
can make out, it ought to arrive to-day."
"No," said M. Darbois, "that letter has not been delivered; it is
still in my desk."
Their faces expressed the great astonishment that they felt.
"You did not like it, papa?"
"Very much, very much. It is quite good--and--and pathetic."
"Then, darling papa?"
"I want to talk with you a little more before you send it."
Everyone drank their coffee a little quicker, and five minutes later
Francois found himself alone with his daughter.
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