Chevalier lost some of his taciturnity in this friendly intercourse.
D'Hérouville's conduct was irreproachable in every sense.

One day the Chevalier entered one of the school-rooms. In his arms he
held a small white child which had sprained its weak ankle while
playing on the lumber pile outside the convent of the Ursulines.
Sister Benie was quick to note how tenderly he held the sobbing child.

"Give him to me, Monsieur," she said, her velvet eyes moist with pity.

The Chevalier placed the little boy in her arms, and he experienced a
strange thrill as he noticed the manner in which she wrapt the boy to
her heart. How often Breton's mother, his nurse, had taken him to her
breast that way! And he stood there marveling over that beautiful
mystery which God had created, for the wonder of man, the woman and the
child.

"I chanced to be passing and heard his cry," he said, diffidently.

"Playing the good Samaritan?" asked a voice from the window. The
Sister and the Chevalier looked around and saw the vicomte leaning on
the window-sill. "Why was it not my happiness to tarry by that
lumber-pile. I saw the lad.'"

"Ah, it is you, Vicomte?" said the Chevalier, pleasantly.

"Yes, Chevalier. Will you walk with me?"

Being without excuse, the Chevalier joined him, and together they
proceeded toward the quarters.