Dear
me! we see that every day. Philippe has had such misfortunes! he has
had so little chance to be happy and loved that we ought not to be
surprised at his passion for that creature. All passions lead to
excess. My own life is not without reproach of that kind, and yet I
call myself an honest woman. A single fault is not vice; and after
all, it is only those who do nothing that are never deceived."
Agathe's despair overcame her so much that Joseph and the Descoings
were obliged to lessen Philippe's wrong-doings by assuring her that
such things happened in all families.
"But he is twenty-eight years old," cried Agathe, "he is no longer a
child."
Terrible revelation of the inward thought of the poor woman on the
conduct of her son.
"Mother, I assure you he thought only of your sufferings and of the
wrong he had done you," said Joseph.
"Oh, my God! let him come back to me, let him live, and I will forgive
all," cried the poor mother, to whose mind a horrible vision of
Philippe dragged dead out of the river presented itself.
Gloomy silence reigned for a short time. The day went by with cruel
alternations of hope and fear; all three ran to the window at the
least sound, and gave way to every sort of conjecture. While the
family were thus grieving, Philippe was quietly getting matters in
order at his office. He had the audacity to give in his accounts with
a statement that, fearing some accident, he had retained eleven
hundred francs at his own house for safe keeping.
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