"My poor father!"
Then she wiped her eyes, so that she could read, and said to Honorine:
"See—what a pretty hand my father wrote! Ah! I can read this easily; listen:
"'My beloved Julia, the time seems very long when I am far from you; the days are endless; and what people call amusements—cards, hunting, concerts and balls—all seem very dull to me and are not worth a glance from you or a smile from my little Agathe, who, I love to believe, is still as fresh and rosy as ever, and strong and well. When shall I be able to embrace you both! My child was beginning to stammer a few words. You told me that on my return she would give me that sweet title of father, which I shall be so happy to hear from her lips. In a fortnight I shall start; I shall pass two days in England, then hasten to you. Patience, my Julia, patience; the time will come when I shall leave you no more, when you will be my wife before men as you now are before God. Be careful of your health; do not tire yourself by carrying your child; I told you to hire a servant, and I trust that you have done so. A bientôt, and then à toujours, your
'Adhémar, Comte de Hautmont.'"
Agathe read the letter almost at a breath; then she looked up at Honorine and said:
"My dear friend, a man doesn't write thus to a person whom he means to abandon some day. Ah! it must be that my father is dead, as he never returned to us."
The package contained sixteen letters, all of which gave eloquent expression to Adhémar de Hautmont's love for Julia Montoni and for their child. Agathe read them all with deep emotion, then exclaimed:
"Ah! thank you, dear mother; this is indeed a treasure that you left for me; and it is much more precious than money. Henceforth, when I want to reward myself, I will read over these letters and imagine that I am between my father and my mother."
Now that we are fully acquainted with the antecedents of Honorine and Agathe, we may go with them to inspect the little house at Chelles.