"You need feel no anxiety on that score, my dear father. Now I know that you are here beside me, and that you will be with me, not only to-morrow but always, I shall go to sleep with that blissful thought on my mind, and I shall sleep on and on and on like a dormouse--that is the word, isn't it, Suzanne? So good night, my dear father, good night, good night." Then she whispered: "I am sure Suzanne is going to speak to you about M. Onésime. How glad I am I got ahead of her. Good night, dearest father, good night." "Good night, and pleasant dreams!" "It will be the best night I have passed for many a month. Good night, my beloved father, good night." "Good night, my child." Then turning to the housekeeper, Cloarek added: "Come back presently, Suzanne, I want to talk with you." "Very well, monsieur; I have something I wish to speak to you about, too." When he was left alone, Cloarek began to walk the room. As he passed the table, the _Journal of the Empire_ attracted his attention. He picked it up and glanced over the article to which his daughter had alluded. "How indiscreet in Verduron to make a strictly confidential letter public, and without warning me!" he exclaimed, evidently much annoyed. "I have always feared that man's stupidity and greed would cause me trouble sooner or later. Fortunately, I have concealed my place of abode from him. To think of this happening now, when my child's feelings and mental condition make dissimulation more imperative than ever. Poor child, such a discovery would kill her!" At that very instant the housekeeper reëntered the room. CHAPTER XII. SUZANNE'S ENLIGHTENMENT. "My dear Suzanne," said M. Cloarek, "first of all, I want to thank you for the excellent care you have taken of my daughter." "Poor Mlle. Sabine, didn't I nurse her when she was a baby, and isn't she almost like my own child to me?" "You have been a second mother to my child, I know. And it is on account of the tender affection you have always manifested toward her that I wish to talk with you on a very important matter." "What is it, monsieur?" "You sent for your nephew in my absence. He has been here nearly two months, I understand." "Yes, and it is in regard to the poor fellow that I wish to talk with you this evening, monsieur. I will explain--" "Sabine has told me all about it." "Great Heavens! you are not angry, I hope." "Not angry, Suzanne, but greatly worried and alarmed." "Alarmed! Alarmed about what?" "The effect of your nephew's presence in this house." "Had I foreseen that it would be disagreeable to you, I would not have sent for the poor boy; but he was so unhappy, and I knew your kindness of heart so well, that I thought I might take the liberty--" "You have rendered too valuable service to each and every member of my family, Suzanne, for your relatives not to have a right to my interest and assistance. What I reproach you for is a great imprudence." "Excuse me, monsieur, but I do not understand."