“Do not ride too quickly, Poulet, dear,” she would say. “Think of your poor mother, who would go mad if anything happened to you, and be careful.”
One Saturday morning she received a letter from Paul to say he should not come to Les Peuples as usual, the following day, as he had been invited to a party some of his college friends had got up. The whole of Sunday Jeanne was tortured by a presentiment of evil, and when Thursday came, she was unable to bear her suspense any longer, and went over to Havre.
Paul seemed changed, though she could hardly tell in what way. He seemed more spirited, and his words and tones were more manly.
“By the way, mamma, we are going on another excursion and I sha’n’t come to Les Peuples next Sunday, as you have come to see me today,” he said, all at once, as
