"Alas! it is not our fault.We love him so much.But we are so timid and sorrowful before him, that he may perhaps think we love him not."
So saying, Rose took her handkerchief from her workbasket, to dry her fears; a paper, folded in the form of a letter, fell out.
At this sight, the two shuddered, and pressed close to one mother, and Rose said to Blanche, in a trembling voice: "Another of these letters!--
Oh, I am afraid! It will doubtless be like the last."
"We must pick it up quickly, that it may not be seen," said Blanche, hastily stooping to seize the letter; "the people who take interest in us might otherwise be exposed to great danger."
"But how could this letter come to us?"
"How did the others come to be placed right under our hand, and always in the absence of our duenna?"
"It is true.Why seek to explain the mystery? We should never be able to do so.Let us read the letter.It will perhaps be more favorable to us than the last." And the two sisters read as follows:--
"Continue to love your father, dear children, for he is very miserable, and you are the involuntary cause of his distress.You will never know the terrible sacrifices that your presence imposes on him; but, alas! he is the victim of his paternal duties.His sufferings are more cruel than ever; spare him at least those marks of tenderness, which occasion him so much more pain than pleasure.Each caress is a dagger-stroke, for he sees in you the innocent cause of his misfortunes.Dear children, you must not therefore despair.If you have enough command over yourselves, not to torture him by the display of too warm a tenderness, if you can mingle some reserve with your affection, you will greatly alleviate his sorrow.Keep these letters a secret from every one, even from good Dagobert, who loves you so much; otherwise, both he and you, your father, and the unknown friend who is writing to you, will be exposed to the utmost peril, for your enemies are indeed formidable.Courage and hope!
May your father's tenderness be once more free from sorrow and regret!--
That happy day is perhaps not so far distant.Burn this letter like all the others!"
The above note was written with so much cunning that, even supposing the orphans had communicated it to their father or Dagobert, it would at the worst have been considered a strange, intrusive proceeding, but almost excusable from the spirit in which it was conceived.Nothing could have been contrived with more perfidious art, if we consider the cruel perplexity in which Marshal Simon was struggling between the fear of again leaving his children and the shame of neglecting what he considered a sacred duty.All the tenderness, all the susceptibility of heart which distinguished the orphans, had been called into play by these diabolical counsels, and the sisters soon perceived that their presence was in fact both sweet and painful to their father; for sometimes he felt himself incapable of leaving them, and sometimes the thought of a neglected duty spread a cloud of sadness over his brow.Hence the poor twins could not fail to value the fatal meaning of the anonymous letters they received.
They were persuaded that, from some mysterious motive, which they were unable to penetrate, their presence was often importunate and even painful to their father.Hence the growing sadness of Rose and Blanche--
hence the sort of fear and reserve which restrained the expression of their filial tenderness.A most painful situation for the marshal, who deceived by inexplicable appearances, mistook, in his turn, their manner of indifference to him--and so, with breaking heart, and bitter grief upon his face, often abruptly quitted his children to conceal his tears!
And the desponding orphans said to each other: "We are the cause of our father's grief.It is our presence which makes him so unhappy."
