Eugénie never resisted her father, except in a case of absolute necessity; she became silent, and appeared to take no further interest in the conversation.
“At last,” said Albert, “I clearly saw this gentleman wished to have his school to himself, so much at home does he feel even there.... He rudely ... made me feel that ... I was in the way. I withdrew, but not without letting him know, in my turn, that I regarded his course as it merited.”
“There was no quarrel between you?” inquired Mr. Smithson, who had a horror of contention.
“No, uncle.”
Mme. Smithson thereupon proceeded to console her nephew as well as she could. The remainder of the evening passed in an uncomfortable manner. Each of the four persons in the room was absorbed in serious reflection without wishing it to be obvious, and all felt that they would not like to communicate what was passing in their hearts. This caused a want of ease which became more and more awkward as it grew more perceptible in spite of the efforts each made to conceal it. The two who were the most troubled, however, were Mme. Smithson and Albert. The latter no longer doubted Eugénie’s love for the engineer. He ought to have seen that, as usual, she merely took the side of the oppressed.
As to Mr. Smithson, it was quite different. A few days previous, he merely suspected Louis might be fanatical and ambitious, and linked with the curé to undermine his authority among the workmen. Now he began to be sure of it. He even went so far as to suspect his daughter of favoring Louis’ designs. This Catholic league, established in his own house and at his own hearth, filled him with a terror and anger as lively as they were ridiculous.
CHAPTER XXI.
CALUMNY.
The next morning, before any one was up, Albert went in search of Fanny, with whom he had the following conversation:
“You have caused me a useless journey,” said he. “Eugénie loves the engineer.”