Nothing appeared to be
changed outwardly; she kept strictly her promise, shut herself up, and
made no attempt whatever to see Felicien. This did not seem to depress
her at all, but she kept her bright, youthful look, smiling sweetly
at Hubertine when occasionally she saw her eyes fixed upon her as if
astonished. However, in this enforced silence she thought only of him;
he was always in her mind.
Her hope remained firm, and she was sure that in spite of all obstacles
everything would come out all right in the end. In fact, it was this
feeling of certainty that gave her such an air of courage, of haughty
rectitude, and of justice.
Hubert from time to time scolded her.
"You are over-doing, my dear; you are really growing pale. I hope at
least that you sleep well at night."
"Oh yes, father! Like a log! Never in my life did I feel better than
now."
But Hubertine, becoming anxious in her turn, proposed that they should
take a little vacation, and said:
"If you would like it, my child, we will shut up the house, and we will
go, all three of us, to Paris for a while."
"Oh! mother mine, of what are you thinking? What would become of all our
orders for work? You know I am never in better health than when closely
occupied.
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