Mated from the Morgue: A Tale of the Second EmpireO'Shea, John Augustus
History
Mated from the Morgue: A Tale of the Second Empire
O'Shea, John Augustus
France -- History -- Second Empire, 1852-1870 -- Fiction
'How lucky it was, gentlemen, you did not both kill each other!'
exclaimed O'Hara, and he burst into a franker, more joyous guffaw than
ever.
The sly rascal! They little knew that he had provided himself with
pistols from a conjuring friend, and had withdrawn the bullets before
their eyes by the aid of a ramrod ending in a screw. The duel had been
fought, like that of Jeffreys and Tom Moore, with leadless weapons.
And thus ended the hostile meeting at Clamart, and thus was Marguerite,
like a soldier, committed to oblivion with a discharge of harmless
gunpowder.
CHAPTER XII.
ORANGE-BLOSSOMS.
There be marriages which are made in heaven, some poet tells us, but in
France they are more usually negotiated over the desk of the notary
public. This is the system: Monsieur A---- wants a wife, he goes to
Lawyer B----, says:
'Old friend, you are aware of my pecuniary circumstances--it is time for
me to think of getting mated--do you know any lady with an eligible
fortune in your _clientèle_?'
'Let me see,' says B----, taking a pinch of snuff. 'Oh! there's C----'s
widow, a capital alliance; got a good annuity in her own right.'
Perhaps A---- is particularly nice, doesn't like widows.
'Then, what d'ye think of D----'s daughter?' continues the lawyer.
'Faded and ugly.'
'But rich, accomplished, and of good family.'
A---- shakes his head negatively.
'Hem, so we must have beauty! What do you say to E----'s sister?'
'Do you want me to marry my grandmother--don't like the reigning toasts
of the last generation. Good-morning.'
'Stay, there's F----'s niece; that's your mark.'
'Ah! now you're getting reasonable; think I could like the woman; saw
her once at the opera.'
'And she has a pretty dowry and big expectations.'
A----'s face is getting radiant.
'Where can I meet her?'
'Madame B---- will give a little _soirée_ on Thursday night; we shall
invite her.'
Mdlle. F---- is trotted out like a filly at Tattersail's--her paces are
shown--report favourable.
'Have you any objection to receiving Monsieur A---- as a suitor?' asks
the nearest of kin.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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