"Yes, and why? Simply because he is the most meddlesome old creature that ever lived, and the awkwardest. Still, that doesn't prevent him from being a great protection to monsieur if any one should attempt to molest him. So what have you to fear, my child?"
"Nothing."
"Think how you would feel if you had a father in the army as so many girls have."
"I could never stand such a terrible strain as that. Why, to be always thinking that my father was exposed to danger, to death,—why, the mere idea of such a thing is appalling."
"Yes, my poor child, the mere idea of such a thing makes you as pale as a ghost, and sets you to trembling like a leaf. It does not surprise me, though, for I know how devoted you are to your father. But drive these dreadful thoughts from your mind, and, by the way, suppose Onésime finishes reading the paper to us."
"Certainly, if M. Onésime is not too tired."
"No, mademoiselle," replied the young man, making almost superhuman efforts to conceal his suffering, which was becoming more and more intolerable.
And getting the paper as close to his eyes as possible, he was preparing to resume the reading, when he remarked:
"I think this is an article which is likely to interest mademoiselle."
"What is it about?"