III + 

The week seemed long to César Hautot. He had never felt so lonely, and the solitude seemed unbearable. Hitherto he had lived with his father, just like his shadow, following him to the fields and superintending the execution of his orders; and when he did leave him for a short time it was only to meet again at dinner. They spent their evenings sitting opposite each other, smoking their pipes and talking about horses, cows or sheep; and the handshake they exchanged every morning was the symbol of deep family affection. + 

Now César was alone. He strolled about looking on while the harvesters worked, expecting at any moment to see his father’s tall gesticulating form at the far end of a field. To kill time he visited his neighbours, telling all about the accident to those who had not already heard it and telling it over again to those who had. Then having reached the end of all that interested him, he would sit down at the side of the road and wonder whether this kind of life would last very long. + 

He often thought of Mademoiselle Donet. He remembered her with pleasure. He had found her ladylike, gentle and good, exactly as father had described her. Undoubtedly, so far as goodness was concerned, she was good. He was determined to do the thing handsomely and give her two thousand francs a year, settling the capital on the child. He even felt a certain pleasure at the prospect of seeing her again on the following Thursday, and making all the arrangements for her future. Then, although the idea of the brother, the little chap of five⁠—his father’s son⁠—did worry and annoy him, it also filled him with a friendly feeling. This illegitimate youngster, though he would never bear the name of Hautot, was, in a sense, a member of the family life, whom he might adopt or abandon as he pleased but who would always remind him of his father. + 

So that when, on Thursday morning, he was trotting along the road to Rouen on Graindorge’s back, he felt lighter-hearted, more at peace than he had done since his bereavement. + 

On entering Mademoiselle Donet’s apartment, he saw the table laid as on the previous Thursday, the only difference being that the crust had been left on the bread. + 

He shook hands with the young woman, kissed Emile on both cheeks and sat down feeling more or less at home in spite of his heart being heavy. Mademoiselle Donet seemed to him to have grown thinner and paler. She must have wept bitterly. She appeared rather awkward in his presence, as if she now understood what she had not felt the previous week when under the first impression of her loss. She treated him with exaggerated respect, showing stricken humility, and waiting upon him with solicitude as if to repay by her attentions and devotion the kindness he had shown her. The lunch dragged on as they discussed the business that had brought him to the house. She did not want so much money. It was too much, far too much. She earned enough to keep herself and she only wanted Emile to find a small sum awaiting him when he was grown up. César was firm, and even added a present of one thousand francs for her mourning. + 

When he had finished his coffee, she asked: + 

“Do you smoke?” + 

“Yes⁠ ⁠… I have my pipe.” + 

He felt his pocket. Good heavens! he had forgotten it. He was quite miserable until she brought out his father’s pipe, which had been put away in a cupboard. He accepted her offer of the pipe, took hold of it, recognised it and smelt it, said what a good one it was, in a voice choked with feeling, filled it with tobacco and lighted it. Then he set Emile astride on his knee and let him play at horses while the mother removed the tablecloth and put the dirty dishes aside in the bottom of the cupboard, intending to wash up as soon as he had gone. + 

About three o’clock he got up reluctantly, very depressed at the idea of leaving. + 

“Well, Mademoiselle Donet,” he said, “I wish you good afternoon. It has been a pleasure to make your further acquaintance.” + 

She stood before him, blushing, deeply moved, and gazed at him while she thought of the father. + 

“Shall we never see each other again?” she said. + 

He replied simply: + 

“Why, yes, Mademoiselle, if it give you any pleasure.” + 

“Indeed it will, Mr. César. So till next Thursday, if that suits you?” + 

“Yes, Mademoiselle Donet.” + 

“You will come to lunch, without fail?” + 

“Well⁠—as you are so kind, I won’t refuse.” + 

“It’s settled then, next Thursday, at twelve, the same as today.” + 

“Thursday at twelve, Mademoiselle Donet!” + 