"Little darling! I am terribly bored, being deprived of your visits!—Get well very soon; but meanwhile it is my turn to come to see you, and I will come."
"Every day?" whispered Blanche.
"Oh, yes! every day! Au revoir, my child, au revoir!"
And the count rose, bowed to Bathilde, took the chevalier's arm, and returned to his apartment.
But the next day it was impossible for Léodgard to rise; the exertion of the preceding day had reopened his wound. The doctor scolded him roundly for his imprudence, and the count was fain to be content with hearing from his daughter every instant of the day. Luckily, the reports were excellent; the malady was abating, and the recovery would be rapid. Blanche should be brought to him as soon as it could be done without danger to her.
Four days more had elapsed, when, on waking one morning, Léodgard found Blanche on his bed. He threw his arms about her and covered her with kisses.
"Friend still sick?" asked the little girl, smiling at her father. But he gazed fondly at her, saying:
"You must not say friend, dear love; after this, call me father—do you understand?—father; for you are my daughter, and I am proud of you.—Oh! why did I not know this happiness sooner—this inward satisfaction which a man feels in pressing his child in his arms!—But I did not believe in it until I possessed you. I was still blind, and I denied the light!"
Joys of the heart are always the best remedy for all ills. As soon as he saw his daughter once more, Léodgard rapidly improved; he was soon well enough to rise and walk about his room; but to make him perfectly comfortable, Blanche must be with him. He seemed to become more attached to her every day. Albeit vastly surprised by the power which the child exerted over his heart, he did not try to combat it; on the contrary, he abandoned himself to it with delight, for he realized that the unfamiliar sensation that he felt was the only one which causes us to enjoy true happiness.
Sometimes, however, as he held his daughter on his knee, with his eyes resting on her lovely eyes, Léodgard would suddenly become depressed and thoughtful, and a livid pallor would overspread his features. Then, putting Blanche on the floor, he would walk hurriedly away from her, hiding his face in his hands, and muttering: