By half-past ten Crevel was mounting the stairs, four at a time, up to Madame Marneffe’s apartment. He found the infamous wretch, the adorable enchantress, in the most becoming morning wrapper, enjoying an elegant little breakfast in the society of the Baron Montes de Montejanos and Lisbeth. Though the sight of the Brazilian gave him a shock, Crevel begged Madame Marneffe to grant him two minutes’ speech with her. Valerie led Crevel into the drawing-room. “Valerie, my angel,” said the amorous Mayor, “Monsieur Marneffe cannot have long to live. If you will be faithful to me, when he dies we will be married. Think it over. I have rid you of Hulot.--So just consider whether this Brazilian is to compare with a Mayor of Paris, a man who, for your sake, will make his way to the highest dignities, and who can already offer you eighty-odd thousand francs a year.” “I will think it over,” said she. “You will see me in the Rue du Dauphin at two o’clock, and we can discuss the matter. But be a good boy--and do not forget the bond you promised to transfer to me.” She returned to the dining-room, followed by Crevel, who flattered himself that he had hit on a plan for keeping Valerie to himself; but there he found Baron Hulot, who, during this short colloquy, had also arrived with the same end in view. He, like Crevel, begged for a brief interview. Madame Marneffe again rose to go to the drawing-room, with a smile at the Brazilian that seemed to say, “What fools they are! Cannot they see you?” “Valerie,” said the official, “my child, that cousin of yours is an American cousin--” “Oh, that is enough!” she cried, interrupting the Baron. “Marneffe never has been, and never will be, never can be my husband! The first, the only man I ever loved, has come back quite unexpectedly. It is no fault of mine! But look at Henri and look at yourself. Then ask yourself whether a woman, and a woman in love, can hesitate for a moment. My dear fellow, I am not a kept mistress. From this day forth I refuse to play the part of Susannah between the two Elders. If you really care for me, you and Crevel, you will be our friends; but all else is at an end, for I am six-and-twenty, and henceforth I mean to be a saint, an admirable and worthy wife--as yours is.” “Is that what you have to say?” answered Hulot. “Is this the way you receive me when I come like a Pope with my hands full of Indulgences?--Well, your husband will never be a first-class clerk, nor be promoted in the Legion of Honor.” “That remains to be seen,” said Madame Marneffe, with a meaning look at Hulot. “Well, well, no temper,” said Hulot in despair. “I will call this evening, and we will come to an understanding.” “In Lisbeth’s rooms then.” “Very good--at Lisbeth’s,” said the old dotard. Hulot and Crevel went downstairs together without speaking a word till they were in the street; but outside on the sidewalk they looked at each other with a dreary laugh. “We are a couple of old fools,” said Crevel.