Chapter 12

On the morrow of this death Eugenie felt a new motive for attachment
to the house in which she was born, where she had suffered so much,
where her mother had just died. She could not see the window and the
chair on its castors without weeping. She thought she had mistaken the
heart of her old father when she found herself the object of his
tenderest cares. He came in the morning and gave her his arm to take
her to breakfast; he looked at her for hours together with an eye that
was almost kind; he brooded over her as though she had been gold. The
old man was so unlike himself, he trembled so often before his
daughter, that Nanon and the Cruchotines, who witnessed his weakness,
attributed it to his great age, and feared that his faculties were
giving away. But the day on which the family put on their mourning,
and after dinner, to which meal Maitre Cruchot (the only person who
knew his secret) had been invited, the conduct of the old miser was
explained.

"My dear child," he said to Eugenie when the table had been cleared
and the doors carefully shut, "you are now your mother's heiress, and
we have a few little matters to settle between us. Isn't that so,
Cruchot?"

"Yes."

"Is it necessary to talk of them to-day, father?"

"Yes, yes, little one; I can't bear the uncertainty in which I'm
placed. I think you don't want to give me pain?"

"Oh! father--"

"Well, then! let us settle it all to-night."

"What is it you wish me to do?"

"My little girl, it is not for me to say. Tell her, Cruchot."

"Mademoiselle, your father does not wish to divide the property, nor
sell the estate, nor pay enormous taxes on the ready money which he
may possess. Therefore, to avoid all this, he must be released from
making the inventory of his whole fortune, part of which you inherit
from your mother, and which is now undivided between you and your
father--"

"Cruchot, are you quite sure of what you are saying before you tell it
to a mere child?"

"Let me tell it my own way, Grandet."

"Yes, yes, my friend. Neither you nor my daughter wish to rob me,--do
you, little one?"

"But, Monsieur Cruchot, what am I to do?" said Eugenie impatiently.

"Well," said the notary, "it is necessary to sign this deed, by which
you renounce your rights to your mother's estate and leave your father
the use and disposition, during his lifetime, of all the property
undivided between you, of which he guarantees you the capital."

"I do not understand a word of what you are saying," returned Eugenie;