"But you can see for yourself that he did deceive you shamefully? Still, what does it matter, now?" added Louis, anxious to put an end to such a painful topic. "We understand each other's feelings now, Mariette, and--" "One moment," interposed Madame Lacombe; "you may feel satisfied and reassured, Mariette, but I do not." "What do you mean, godmother?" "I mean that I strongly disapprove of this marriage." "But listen, madame," pleaded Louis. "As you are the son of a public scrivener, you haven't a sou to your name. Mariette hasn't, either, and two people in such circumstances as that have no right to marry. My goddaughter has me to take care of. She would be sure, too, to have a lot of children, and a nice fix we should all be in!" "But, godmother--" "Don't talk to me. I know what you intend to do. The first thing you'll try for is to get rid of the old woman. There won't be bread enough for us all, and I shall be turned out into the street to be arrested as a public vagabond. I shall be sent to the workhouse, so you won't be troubled with me any more. Oh, yes, I understand your scheme." "Oh, godmother, how can you imagine such a thing as that?" "Dismiss all such fears from your mind, I beg of you, madame," Louis made haste to say, "This very day I made a most unexpected discovery. My father, for reasons which I must respect, has concealed from me the fact that we are rich, very rich." Mariette manifested much more astonishment than delight on hearing this startling announcement, but turning to Madame Lacombe after a moment, she said: "You see you need be troubled by no more of these terrible misgivings in regard to my future, godmother." "Ha, ha!" laughed Madame Lacombe, sardonically; "so she really believes it--" "But, godmother--" "Nonsense, child, can't you see that he has invented this story so I will consent to your marriage?" "But I swear, madame--" "I tell you it is all a lie," exclaimed Madame Lacombe; "for if you were as rich as you say, you wouldn't want Mariette any longer. Would the son of a rich man be fool enough to marry a poor working girl who can neither read nor write?" Though she did not exactly share her godmother's doubts, Mariette gazed at Louis a little sadly and uneasily, as she thought of the great change in his fortunes. The young man must have understood the meaning of the look, for he said: "You are very much mistaken, Madame Lacombe; the son of a rich man keeps the promise he made as a poor man when the happiness of his life depends upon that promise." "Bah! that is all talk!" interrupted the invalid, in surly tones; "but rich or poor, you won't get Mariette without I am sure of a living. I don't ask much,--six hundred francs a year will do,--but the money must be deposited in the hands of a reliable notary before the marriage contract is signed." "Oh, godmother, have you no more confidence in Louis than that?"