"That's my affair, it doesn't concern you." "Pardon me; she answered _never_ with such evident temper----" "She's an old fool!" "But what question did that answer?" "Oh! go to the devil! why do you put your nose in?" "Come, admit that the affair is complicated by another scheme----" "No, I tell you!" Marcel persisted. "Uncle," said he, "the thing is clear enough to me; as you were unable to marry a countess, you concluded to marry a marchioness. Well, that scheme was more sensible than the other; your ages and your fortunes are more in harmony; but I see that you failed there also. She led you on by some sort of hope in order to get a little of your money, but she went on working on her own account, underhandedly and without your knowledge, to obtain possession of the countess's property, and if you had arrived a minute later, the thing would have been done and you would be neither married nor revenged." Antoine listened to this homily with his head dropped on his breast, in the attitude of meditation, but furtively watching the smile of surprise and irony which Madame d'Estrelle could not hide. "As far as not being married to that old shark goes," he said, rising, "I thank the good Lord with all my heart; but, as to the revenge I propose to have here, why, I'll have it, and the devil himself should not deprive me of it." "Tell us about your revenge," said Julie with the utmost tranquillity. "Who told you that it concerned you?" cried Uncle Antoine, whose tongue always became loosened sooner or later. "Look you, there are three of you women who have gulled me as if I was a little boy. Women can't do anything else! The first was Madame André long ago, who called me her brother and her friend, and that gave me confidence; the second was you, who called me your good friend and excellent neighbor, so as to coax me to give your lover something to marry on; the third--oh! she called me her dear monsieur and her generous creditor, but she's the worst of the three, because she only wanted to pluck me, like the avaricious vixen she is: so she will have to pay for the other two. As for you, Madame d'Estrelle, I excuse you and forgive you. Love makes people do idiotic things, but at all events it's love, a thing which, so far as I can see, muddles the brain and makes the reason limp. Well, let it go; give me back your friendship, and let us hear no more of marriage, with me or with the _other_. I still wish you well, and I will prevent you from taking my nephew the painter, because my nephew the painter betrayed me, and because it isn't suitable for you to marry a painter." "Come, come!" said Marcel, interrupting him, "you were beginning to talk sense; but now your mania is taking hold of you again. That seems to be a fixed idea with you! Where the devil did you fish up that fancy?"