Such a bold declaration would be in keeping with her character. But she feared a terrible, and perhaps degrading scene. The most intimate friends of the family were ignorant of its most painful sores. In presence of his friends, M. Favoral dissembled, speaking in a mild voice, and assuming a kindly smile. Should she suddenly reveal the truth? “It is childish of you to run the risk of discouraging a clever fellow who makes half a million a year,” continued the wife of the old bronze-merchant, to whom such conduct seemed an abominable crime of _lese-money_. Mlle. Gilberte had withdrawn her hands. “You did not hear what he said, madame.” “I beg your pardon: I was quite near, and involuntarily--” “You have heard his--propositions?” “Perfectly. He was promising you a carriage, a box at the opera, diamonds, freedom. Isn’t that the dream of all young ladies?” “It is not mine, madame!” “Dear me! What better can you wish? You must not expect more from a husband than he can possibly give.” “That is not what I shall expect of him.” In a tone of paternal indulgence, which his looks belied: “She is mad,” suggested M. Favoral. Tears of indignation filled Mlle. Gilberte’s eyes. “Mme. Desclavettes,” she exclaimed, “forgets something. She forgets that this gentleman dared to tell me that he proposed to settle upon the woman he marries a large fortune, of which his creditors would thus be cheated in case of his failure in business.” She thought, in her simplicity, that a cry of indignation would rise at these words. Instead of which: “Well, isn’t it perfectly natural?” said M. Desclavettes. “It seems to me more than natural,” insisted Mme. Desclavettes, “that a man should be anxious to preserve from ruin his wife and children.” “Of course,” put in M. Favoral. Stepping resolutely toward her father: “Have you, then, taken such precautions yourself?” demanded Mlle. Gilberte. “No,” answered the cashier of the Mutual Credit. And, after a moment of hesitation: “But I am running no risks,” he added. “In business, and when a man may be ruined by a mere rise or fall in stocks, he would be insane indeed who did not secure bread for his family, and, above all, means for himself, wherewith to commence again. The Baron de Thaller did not act otherwise; and, should he meet with a disaster, Mme. de Thaller would still have a handsome fortune.” M. Desormeaux was, perhaps, the only one not to admit freely that theory, and not to accept that ever-decisive reason, “Others do it.” But he was a philosopher, and thought it silly not to be of his time. He therefore contented himself with saying: “Hum! M. de Thaller’s creditors might not think that mode of proceeding entirely regular.” “Then they might sue,” said M. Chapelain, laughing. “People can always sue; only when the papers are well drawn--” Mlle. Gilberte stood dismayed. She thought of Marius de Tregars giving up his mother’s fortune to pay his father’s debts.