“No; Julia caused inquiries to be made; she was unable to learn anything concerning her child’s father, and six years later the poor mother placed her daughter in my care, saying:
“‘I am dying; take care of my Agathe, who has no one but you to love her.’
“That, monsieur, is all that there is to tell concerning her whom you desire to call your wife; and that it was absolutely necessary to tell you.”
“Oh! madame, you do not think, I trust, that that can in any degree lessen my love for her or my desire to make her the companion of my life.”
“You see, my dear, it doesn’t change his sentiments at all; I was sure that it would not!”
“Dear Agathe, your mother’s misfortunes can but make you the more interesting in my eyes. But your father’s sudden disappearance seems to me most extraordinary; it must be connected with some mysterious occurrence—with some crime, perhaps; who knows?”
“Ah! we have very often thought that.”
“And there has never been any clue, any circumstance to put you on the track of what happened to him?”
“Nothing; so long as my poor mother lived, she never ceased to seek information and make inquiries; but she could never discover a trace of the man who had sworn to love her forever! When she died, I was twelve years old; I could do nothing but weep for my dear mother, and love her who consented to take charge of the unfortunate orphan.”
Agathe threw herself into Honorine’s arms; the latter hastily wiped away the tears that were gathering in her eyes and said: