“Is that all?” asked Marguerite.
Again Balthazar made a sign to Lemulquinier, who replied, as if under a spell,—
“Yes, mademoiselle.”
“Very good,” she said, “I will give them to you.”
Balthazar kissed her joyously and said,—
“You are an angel, my child.”
He breathed at his ease and glanced at her with eyes that were less sad; and yet, in spite of this apparent joy, Marguerite easily detected the signs of deep anxiety upon his face, and felt certain that the three thousand francs represented only the pressing debts of his laboratory.
“Be frank with me, father,” she said, letting him seat her on his knee; “you owe more than that. Tell me all, and come back to your home without an element of fear in the midst of the general joy.”
“My dear Marguerite,” he said, taking her hands and kissing them with a grace that seemed a memory of her youth, “you would scold me—”
“No,” she said.