"
"Yes; but we will take care that you have no more such gloomy thoughts. Our
tenderness will not leave you the time, my dear Marie," answered Rudolph,
"for you know that I gave you this name at the farm."
"Yes, M. Rudolph. And is Madame George, who allowed me to call her mother,
well?"
"Very well, my child. But I have important news to tell you."
"Me, M. Ruldoph?"
"Since I have seen you, great discoveries have been made concerning your
birth."
"My birth!"
"It is known who were your parents--who was your father."
Rudolph was so much choked by his tears on his pronouncing these words,
that Fleur-de-Marie, very much affected, turned quickly toward him: he had
turned away his head. An incident, half burlesque, diverted the attention
of La Goualeuse, and prevented her from remarking more closely the emotion
of her father: the worthy squire, who still remained behind the curtain,
and, apparently was very attentively looking into the garden of the hotel,
could not refrain from blowing his nose with a most formidable noise, for
he wept like a child.
"Yes, my dear Marie," Clemence hastened to say, "your father is known--he
still lives."
"My father!" cried the Goualeuse, with an outburst which put the composure
of Rudolph to a new trial.
"And some day," resumed Clemence, "very soon, perhaps, you will see him.
What will doubtless surprise you very much is, that he is of high
standing--noble birth.
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