send him
away; that was to teach him a lesson. I had to show him that my will was
stronger than his. That is why I sent him to India where I intended to
keep him but a short while. I gave him a position befitting my son and
heir. He was the representative of my house. Did I know that he would
marry that miserable creature? He was mad!"

"But Father Fields said that she was not a miserable creature," insisted
Perrine.

"She was or she would not have contracted a marriage that was not valid
in France," retorted the blind man, "and I will not recognize her as my
daughter."

He said this in a tone that made Perrine feel suddenly cold. Then he
continued abruptly: "You wonder why I am trying to get my son back now,
if I did not want him back after he had married. Things have changed.
Conditions are not the same now as then. After fourteen years of this
so-called marriage my son ought to be tired of this woman and of the
miserable life that he has been forced to live on account of her.
Besides conditions for me have also changed. My health is not what it
was, and I am blind. I cannot recover my sight unless I am operated upon
and I must be in a calm state favorable to the success of this
operation. When my son learns this do you think he will hesitate to
leave this woman? I am willing to support her and her daughter also. I
am sure many times he has thought of Maraucourt and wanted to return. If
I love him I know that he also loves me. When he learns the truth he
will come back at once, you will see."

"Then he would have to leave his wife and daughter?"

"He has no wife nor has he a daughter," said the old man sternly.

"Father Fields says that he was married at the Mission House by Father
Leclerc," said Perrine.

"This marriage was contracted contrary to the French law," said M.
Vulfran.

"But was it not lawful in India?" asked Perrine.

"I will have it annulled in Rome," said the blind man.

"But the daughter?"

"The law would not recognize that child."

"Is the law everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it is not the law that makes one love or not love one's
parents or children. It was not the law that made me love my poor
father. I loved him because he was good and kind and he loved me. I was
happy when he kissed me, and smiled at me. I loved him and there was
nothing that I liked better than to be with him. He loved me because I
was his little girl and needed his affection; he loved me because