! Kiss your poor father, my chicken! Ah! those
revolutions!"

And, when his daughter scolded him for having made himself ill by
tormenting his mind on her account, he replied:

"Yes! you are right! But I couldn't help it! I am too sensitive!"

CHAPTER XV.

"HOW HAPPY COULD I BE WITH EITHER."

Madame Dambreuse, in her boudoir, between her niece and Miss John, was
listening to M. Roque as he described the severe military duties he had
been forced to perform.

She was biting her lips, and appeared to be in pain.

"Oh! 'tis nothing! it will pass away!"

And, with a gracious air:

"We are going to have an acquaintance of yours at dinner with
us,--Monsieur Moreau."

Louise gave a start.

"Oh! we'll only have a few intimate friends there--amongst others,
Alfred de Cisy."

And she spoke in terms of high praise about his manners, his personal
appearance, and especially his moral character.

Madame Dambreuse was nearer to a correct estimate of the state of
affairs than she imagined; the Vicomte was contemplating marriage. He
said so to Martinon, adding that Mademoiselle Cecile was certain to like
him, and that her parents would accept him.

To warrant him in going so far as to confide to another his intentions
on the point, he ought to have satisfactory information with regard to
her dowry. Now Martinon had a suspicion that Cecile was M. Dambreuse's
natural daughter; and it is probable that it would have been a very
strong step on his part to ask for her hand at any risk. Such audacity,
of course, was not unaccompanied by danger; and for this reason Martinon
had, up to the present, acted in a way that could not compromise him.
Besides, he did not see how he could well get rid of the aunt. Cisy's
confidence induced him to make up his mind; and he had formally made his
proposal to the banker, who, seeing no obstacle to it, had just informed
Madame Dambreuse about the matter.

Cisy presently made his appearance. She arose and said:

"You have forgotten us. Cecile, shake hands!"

At the same moment Frederick entered the room.

"Ha! at last we have found you again!" exclaimed Pere Roque. "I called
with Cecile on you three times this week!"

Frederick had carefully avoided them. He pleaded by way of excuse that
he spent all his days beside a wounded comrade.

For a long time, however, a heap of misfortunes had happened to him, and
he tried to invent stories to explain his conduct. Luckily the guests
a