"To make merchandise of Antonine! I, counsel her to be guilty of an act of shocking meanness, a marriage of interest! to sell herself, in a word, when but an hour ago she confessed her pure and noble love to me! Ah, monsieur, I thought you had a higher opinion of me!" "Come, come, now, my dear Dutertre, you are a man of sense, confess that these reasons are nothing but romance; help me to convince your wife." "I repeat, monsieur, that I think as she does." "Ah," exclaimed M. Pascal, "I did not expect to find here friends so cold and indifferent to what concerned me." "Sir," exclaimed Sophie, "that reproach is unjust." "Unjust! alas, I wish it were; but, indeed, I have too much reason to think differently. But a moment ago, your husband refused one of my requests, and now it is you. Ah, it is sad--sad. What can I rely upon after this?" "Refused what?" said Sophie to her husband, more and more disquieted. "What does he mean, Charles?" "It is not necessary to mention it, my dear Sophie." "I think, on the contrary," replied Pascal, "that it would be well to tell your wife, my dear Dutertre, and have her opinion." "Sir!" exclaimed Dutertre, clasping his hands in dismay. "Come! is it not a marriage of love?" said Pascal, "you do not have any secrets from each other!" "Charles, I beseech you, explain to me the meaning of all this. Ah, I saw plainly enough that you were suffering. Monsieur, has anything happened between you and Charles?" said she to Pascal, in a tone of entreaty. "I implore you to tell me." "My God! a very simple thing happened. You can judge of it yourself, madame--" "Monsieur!" cried Dutertre, "in the name of the gratitude we owe you, in the name of pity, not one word more, I beseech you, for I can never believe that you will persist in your resolution. And then, what good does it do to torture my wife with needless alarm?" Then, turning to Madame Dutertre, he said: "Compose yourself, Sophie, I beg you." The father Dutertre, hearing the sound of voices as he sat in his chamber, suddenly opened his door, made two steps into the parlour, extending his hands before him, and cried, trembling with excitement: "Charles! Sophie. My God! what is the matter?" "My father!" whispered Dutertre, wholly overcome. "The old man!" said Pascal. "Good! that suits me!" CHAPTER IX. A moment's silence followed the entrance of the old blind man into the parlour. Dutertre went quickly to meet his father, took hold of his trembling hand, and said, as he pressed it tenderly: "Calm yourself, father, it is nothing; a simple discussion, a little lively. Let me take you back to your chamber." "Charles," said the old man, shaking his head sadly, "your hand is cold, you are nervous, your voice is changed; something has happened which you wish to hide from me."