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Marguerite kissed her father and bade him good-bye, gave her last directions to Josette and to Felicie, and started with Monsieur Conyncks for Paris. The great-uncle was a widower with one child, a daughter twelve years old, and he was possessed of an immense fortune.
The tones of his voice, his resigned look, his feeble movements, crushed the poor girl's heart; she turned away her head to conceal her tears, and then, unable to repress them, she went into the garden to weep at her ease. During breakfast, Balthazar showed the cheerfulness of a man who had come to a decision. "So we are to start for Bretagne, uncle," he said to Monsieur Conyncks.
"I have seen little of Paris," she said; "I did not go there for amusement. The days went by sadly, I was so impatient to see Douai once more." "Yes, if I had not been angry about it she would not have gone to the Opera; and even there she was uneasy," said Monsieur Conyncks.
Marguerite restored all the old customs of the House of Claes, and gave a family fete every month in honor of her father, at which the Pierquins and the Conyncks were present; and she also received the upper ranks of society one day in the week at a "cafe" which became celebrated.
"Father," said Marguerite in accents of despair, "are you still searching?" "Yes, still searching," he said, with the smile of a madman, "and I shall FIND. If you could only understand the point we have reached " "We? who are we?" "I mean Mulquinier: he has understood me, he loves me. Poor fellow! he is devoted to me." Conyncks entered at the moment and interrupted the conversation.
Balthazar and Monsieur Conyncks, the only persons who were seated, occupied two armchairs beside the notary who, for this occasion, had taken Pierquin's duty. Jean stood behind his father.
The three marriages followed this happy day, and gave occasion to many fetes, and balls, and dinners, which involved Balthazar for some months in the vortex of social life. His eldest son and his wife removed to an estate near Cambrai belonging to Monsieur Conyncks, who was unwilling to separate from his daughter.
The two bought a number of fine pictures, which they presented to Felicie to decorate the gallery. Monsieur Conyncks had thought of the same thing.
Conyncks was nothing to him beside Marguerite; he saw only his daughter, he thought only of her, and seemed to fear her, as certain weak husbands fear a superior woman who rules them. When he raised his eyes and looked at her, Marguerite noticed with distress an expression of fear, like that of a child detected in a fault.
Sometimes Marguerite tried to smile, but her motions, her looks, the tones of her voice betrayed a keen anxiety. Messieurs Conyncks and de Solis seemed to know the meaning of the secret feelings which agitated the noble girl, and they appeared to encourage her by expressive glances.
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