"Because, if you had known the Sire de Jarnonville long, you would probably know as much about him as I do, and you would have a very different opinion of him.--I will tell you what I have heard here. About five or six months ago, the Black Chevalier, for he is sometimes so called, had just left our house, where he had been telling the story of one of his exploits--he had broken everything in a tavern, I believe. When he had gone, a gentleman quite advanced in years, but with a face that inspired respect, said to another gentleman who was with him: 'Poor Jarnonville! how he has changed! who would believe, to look at him now, that he was once the mildest, most obliging, most virtuous of men! the man who was held up as a model to young gentlemen who were just entering the world!'--'What can have changed him so?' the other inquired.--'Jarnonville was married, and he lost his wife, whom he loved very dearly; but she had left him a child, a little girl, who was, they say, an angel of beauty, sweetness, and docility. Jarnonville adored little Blanche--that was his daughter's name; she had become his only love, his sole joy, his whole hope for the future; constantly intent upon providing some pleasure, some delight for his darling child, his grief for his wife's death gradually faded away. Happy and proud to be all in all to his daughter, who became every day more charming in body and mind, Jarnonville hardly ever left little Blanche. At four years of age--and that is very, very young!--at four years of age, the child understood all that she owed to her father, all the sacrifices to which he submitted for her sake; but she repaid them all by her love. Never did a child of that age manifest such affection for its father! If he left her for an instant, her eyes filled with tears; but as soon as she saw him, an enchanting smile lighted up her lovely face.--Poor child! You will understand how he must have loved her!--Well! that child, already so far beyond her years in her feelings and her intelligence, that pretty Blanche--he lost her after an illness of a few days only! One of those cruel diseases which feed upon childhood, and which the doctors are as yet unable to cure, carried off the poor little darling!--I will not try to describe her father's grief; it would be impossible. But the frightful calamity that had befallen him changed his character absolutely. Jarnonville accused heaven, Providence. Having never been guilty in his whole life of any evil deed, he rebelled against the fate that dealt him such a cruel blow, which snatched away that little creature to whom life seemed to offer such a beautiful and peaceful prospect--in short, that man, who had always been so religious, ceased utterly to be so, and blasphemed God. Deaf to all consolation, he lived a long while in retirement. When, by dint of constant solicitation, his friends succeeded in luring him back into society, he was no longer the Jarnonville of other days.