But Marie was still gentle with the children:  when she could be with them for half an hour, she would sit with them on her lap, or clustering round, kissing them and saying soft words to them,—­even softer in her affection than had been her wont.  They understood as well as everybody else that something was wrong,—­that there was to be some change as to Marie which perhaps would not be a change for the better; that there was cause for melancholy, for close kissing as though such kissing were in preparation for parting, and for soft strokings with their little hands as though Marie were to be pitied for that which was about to come upon her.  ’Isn’t somebody coming to take you away?’ little Michel asked her, when they were quite alone.  Marie had not known how to answer him.  She had therefore embraced him closely, and a tear fell upon his face.  ‘Ah,’ he said, ’I know somebody is coming to take you away.  Will not papa help you?’ She had not spoken; but for the moment she had taken courage, and had resolved that she would help herself.

At length the day was there on which Adrian Urmand was to come.  It was his purpose to travel by Mulhouse and Remiremont, and Michel Voss drove over to the latter town to fetch him.  It was felt by every one—­it could not be but felt—­that there was something special in his coming.  His arrival now was not like the arrival of any one else.  Marie, with all her resolution that it should be like usual arrivals at the inn, could not avoid the making of some difference herself.  A better supper was prepared than usual; and, at the last moment, she herself assisted in preparing it.  The young men clustered round the door of the hotel earlier than usual to welcome the new-comer.  M. le Cure was there with a clean white collar, and with his best hat.  Madame Voss had changed her gown, and appeared in her own little room before her husband returned almost in her Sunday apparel.  She had said a doubtful word to Marie, suggesting a clean ribbon, or an altered frill.  Marie had replied only by a look.  She would not have changed a pin for Urmand’s coming, had all Granpere come round her to tell her that it was needful.  If the man wanted more to eat than was customary, let him have it.  It was not for her to measure her uncle’s hospitality.  But her ribbons and her pins were her own.

The carriage was driving up to the door, and Michel with his young friend descended among the circle of expectant admirers.  Urmand was rich, always well dressed, and now he was to be successful in love.  He had about him a look as of a successful prosperous lover, as he jumped out of the little carriage with his portmanteau in his hand, and his greatcoat with its silk linings open at the breast.  There was a consciousness in him and in every one there that he had not come now to buy linen.  He made his way into the little room where Madame Voss was standing up, waiting for him, and was taken by the hand by her.  Michel Voss soon followed them.