“I understand; you are displeased at the silence I have preserved on the subject. The reason of it was, that they had insisted on my keeping the matter a secret, and begged me not to tell you anything of it. They did not even acquaint me with their intentions, and I only discovered them by chance, that is why I have been so reserved with you, dear grandpapa. Pray forgive me.”
But there was no look calculated to reassure her; all it seemed to say was, “It is not only your reserve which afflicts me.”
“What is it, then?” asked the young girl. “Perhaps you think I shall abandon you, dear grandpapa, and that I shall forget you when I am married?”
“No.”
“They told you, then, that M. d’Épinay consented to our all living together?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you still vexed and grieved?” The old man’s eyes beamed with an expression of gentle affection.
“Yes, I understand,” said Valentine; “it is because you love me.” The old man assented.
“And you are afraid I shall be unhappy?”
“Yes.”
“You do not like M. Franz?” The eyes repeated several times, “No, no, no.”
“Then you are vexed with the engagement?”
“Yes.”