ed
by his niece. Marguerite's return was made a family fete. Pierquin and
Monsieur de Solis were invited to dinner by Felicie and Balthazar. When
the travelling-carriage stopped before the house, the four went to meet
it with demonstrations of joy. Marguerite seemed happy to see her home
once more, and her eyes filled with tears as she crossed the court-yard
to reach the parlor. When embracing her father she colored like a guilty
wife who is unable to dissimulate; but her face recovered its serenity
as she looked at Emmanuel, from whom she seemed to gather strength to
complete a work she had secretly undertaken.

Notwithstanding the gaiety which animated all present during the dinner,
father and daughter watched each other with distrust and curiosity.
Balthazar asked his daughter no questions as to her stay in Paris,
doubtless to preserve his parental dignity. Emmanuel de Solis imitated
his reserve; but Pierquin, accustomed to be told all family secrets,
said to Marguerite, concealing his curiosity under a show of
liveliness:--

"Well, my dear cousin, you have seen Paris and the theatres--"

"I have seen little of Paris," she said; "I did not go there for
amusement. The days went by sadly, I was so impatient to see Douai once
more."

"Yes, if I had not been angry about it she would not have gone to the
Opera; and even there she was uneasy," said Monsieur Conyncks.

It was a painful evening; every one was embarrassed and smiled vaguely
with the artificial gaiety which hides such real anxieties. Marguerite
and Balthazar were a prey to cruel, latent fears which reacted on the
rest. As the hours passed, the bearing of the father and daughter grew
more and more constrained. Sometimes Marguerite tried to smile, but
her motions, her looks, the tones of her voice betrayed a keen anxiety.
Messieurs Conyncks and de Solis seemed to know the meaning of the secret
feelings which agitated the noble girl, and they appeared to encourage
her by expressive glances. Balthazar, hurt at being kept from a
knowledge of the steps that had been taken on his behalf, withdrew
little by little from his children and friends, and pointedly kept
silence. Marguerite would no doubt soon disclose what she had decided
upon for his future.

To a great man, to a father, the situation was intolerable. At his age
a man no longer dissimulates in his own family; he became more and more
thoughtful, serious, and grieved as the hour approached when he woul