"It is very disinterested of you to publish it," said the professor, looking significantly at the happy father. "This acknowledgment will cost you a considerable sum."
"How?" asked Von Paradies, frightened. "I do not understand."
"It is very simple, nevertheless," said the professor, carelessly. "Does the empress give your daughter a pension?"
"Certainly. You know she does, and a handsome one, too."
"Of course it is lost to her," replied Berth, enjoying the sudden paleness which overspread the radiant face of Von Paradies. "A girl who sees has no right to the money which is given to the blind, and I heard Von Stork this very day saying that as soon as it was proved that your daughter could see, he intended to apply to the empress for her pension in behalf of another party."
"But this pension is our chief support; it enables us to live very comfortably. If it were withdrawn, I should be a beggar."
"That would not alter the case. Pensions are granted to those who by their misfortunes have a claim upon the public charity. The claim dies from the moment that your daughter's infirmity is removed. Through the favor of the empress she has become a scientific musician, and this now must be her capital. She can teach music and give concerts."
"But that will not maintain us respectably," urged Von Paradies, with increasing uneasiness.
"Of course it will not maintain you as you live with your handsome pension. But you need not starve. Be that as it may, there is a blind countess who is my patient, for whom Von Stork is to obtain the pension as soon as you can convince the faculty that your daughter is no longer in need of it. This patient, I assure you, will receive it as long as she lives, for it will never enter into her head to fancy that she has been cured by Master Mesmer."
"But, my dear professor," entreated Von Paradies, "have mercy on me and my family! For sixteen years we have received this income, and it had been secured to us during Therese's lifetime."