“What!” exclaimed Marcel, greatly agitated. “Such an offer has been made, and you never informed me of it?”
“What would have been the use? You know how we felt just then for me to have given such an emphatic and stupid reply. Your father—Oh! I believe he would have preferred to see you in your grave rather than married to a Lichtenbach. Just think of it! The General had just been killed—the works were still in flames! No, no! It was impossible.”
“But now, Uncle Graff?”
“What! Can you think of such a thing?” asked the sentimental old fellow, in trembling accents.
“I think of it so much,” said Marcel, firmly, “that if Mademoiselle Lichtenbach does not consent to become my wife I will never marry another.”
At that moment a slight sound was heard, and the door closed.
“Who is there?” asked Graff, eagerly.
“Do not excite yourself,” said the voice of Baradier.
“Were you listening?”
“No; I have just come. But I heard your last words. How long are you going to remain in this darkness?”