M. Pascal, at the sight of Antonine, whom he saw for the second time that morning, was, as we have said, a moment bewildered with surprise and admiration before this fresh and innocent beauty. "At last, here you are!" said Charles Dutertre, effusively extending both hands to M. Pascal when he found himself alone with him. "Do you know we were beginning to question your promptness? All the week my wife and I have looked forward with joy to this day, for, after the anniversary of the birth of our children, the day that we celebrate with the most pleasure is the one from which dates, thanks to you, the security of their future. It is so good, so sweet to feel, by the gratitude of our hearts, the lofty nobleness of those generous deeds which honour him who offers as much as him who accepts." M. Pascal did not appear to have heard the words of M. Dutertre, and said to him: "Who is that young girl who just went out of here?" "Mlle. Antonine Hubert." "Is she related to President Hubert, who has lately been so ill?" "She is his niece." "Ah!" said Pascal, thoughtfully. "You know if my father were not with us," replied M. Dutertre, smiling, "our little festivity would not be complete. I am going to inform him of your arrival, my dear M. Pascal." And as he stepped to the door of the old man's chamber, M. Pascal stopped him with a gesture, and said: "Does not President Hubert reside--" And as he hesitated, Dutertre added: "In Faubourg St. Honoré. The garden joins that of the Élysée-Bourbon." "Has this young girl lived with her uncle long?" Dutertre, quite surprised at this persistent inquiry concerning Antonine, answered: "About three months ago M. Hubert went to Nice for Antonine, where she lived after the death of her parents." "And is Madame Dutertre very intimate with this young person?" "They were together at boarding-school, where Sophie was a sort of mother to her, and ever since they have been upon the most affectionate terms." "Ah!" said Pascal, again relapsing into deep thought. This man possessed a great and rare faculty which had contributed to the accumulation of his immense fortune,--he could with perfect ease detach himself from any line of thought, and enter upon a totally different set of ideas. Thus, after the interview of Frantz and Antonine which he had surprised, and which had excited him so profoundly, he was able to talk with the archduke upon business affairs, and to torture him with deliberate malice. In the same way, after this meeting with Antonine at the house of Dutertre, he postponed, so to speak, his violent resentment and his plans regarding the young girl, and said, with perfect good-nature, to Sophie's husband: "While we wait for the return of your wife, I have a little favour to ask of you." "At last!" exclaimed Dutertre, rubbing his hands with evident satisfaction; "better late than never." "You had a cashier named Marcelange?" "Yes, unfortunately." "Unfortunately?"