"Oh, don't go," she entreated, fixing her supplicating eyes upon Adèle, "he might kill you."
Mrs. Mathers laughed. "No," she said, "he is my father; he is ill and needs me. I am going to discharge my duty towards him." And so saying she ascended the creaky staircase.
To this day, she cannot explain the sensation which she felt as she entered the room where her father lay.
She went straight up to her father's bedside, sank on her knees, took the hand that was lying on the bedclothes between both hers and began to weep.
Mr. Rougeant quickly withdrew his hand, he contracted his brow, his lips slightly curved, he looked on her with contempt.
"What do you want?" he said roughly. "You come to beg, you pauper, your angry creditors are clamouring for their money, you are on the verge of bankruptcy. I knew it;" he added triumphantly.
"Father, it is true, I come to beg, but not for money. I am not poor."
He looked at her suspiciously.
She turned upon him her tearful eyes and softly said: "Father, you are miserable, I want to render you happy once more."
To her great surprise, he did not answer, but his countenance fell. "Who has told her that I am miserable and that I wish to be happy once more?" he mused.