There was no answer, and she continued:
“I have not seen you all day. Has anyone been speaking to you against me?”
“Yes,” said the old man’s look, with eagerness.
“Let me think a moment. I do assure you, grandpapa—Ah—M. and Madame de Villefort have just left this room, have they not?”
“Yes.”
“And it was they who told you something which made you angry? What was it then? May I go and ask them, that I may have the opportunity of making my peace with you?”
“No, no,” said Noirtier’s look.
“Ah, you frighten me. What can they have said?” and she again tried to think what it could be.
“Ah, I know,” said she, lowering her voice and going close to the old man. “They have been speaking of my marriage,—have they not?”
“Yes,” replied the angry look.
“I understand; you are displeased at the silence I have preserved on the subject. The reason of it was, that they had insisted on my keeping the matter a secret, and begged me not to tell you anything of it. They did not even acquaint me with their intentions, and I only discovered them by chance, that is why I have been so reserved with you, dear grandpapa. Pray forgive me.”
But there was no look calculated to reassure her; all it seemed to say was, “It is not only your reserve which afflicts me.”
“What is it, then?” asked the young girl. “Perhaps you think I shall abandon you, dear grandpapa, and that I shall forget you when I am married?”