He sprang toward his father, and seizing his hands, he raised them to his lips, faltering:
“Thanks! you are so good! I love you! Oh, how happy I am!”
Alas! the poor boy was in too much haste to rejoice.
A gleam of pride flashed in M. Lacheneur’s eyes; but his face soon resumed its gloomy expression.
“Believe me, Monsieur le Baron, I am deeply touched by your grandeur of soul—yes, deeply touched. You wish to make me forget my humiliation; but, for this very reason, I should be the most contemptible of men if I did not refuse the great honor you desire to confer upon my daughter.”
“What!” exclaimed the baron, in utter astonishment; “you refuse?”
“I am compelled to do so.”
Thunderstruck at first, Maurice afterward renewed the attack with an energy which no one had ever suspected in his character before.
“Do you, then, wish to ruin my life, Monsieur?” he exclaimed; “to ruin our life; for if I love Marie-Anne, she also loves me.”
It was easy to see that he spoke the truth. The unhappy girl, crimson with happy blushes the moment before, had suddenly become whiter than marble, as she looked imploringly at her father.