"Yes; but fortunately she is married, so you can't offer me to her. I'm glad of it, for she's the worst plotter and schemer on earth." "Possibly she is, but she is an intimate friend of Madame de la Rochaigue, who is also one of my friends." "How long since, may I ask? Haven't I often heard you say that that woman was the very personification of meanness?" "That is neither here nor there," said the duchess, hastily interrupting him, "Madame de la Rochaigue has now for a ward Mlle. de Beaumesnil, the richest heiress in France." "Who is now in Italy." "Who is now in Paris." "She has returned?" "Yes, last evening; and this morning, at ten o'clock, I had a long and very satisfactory interview with Madame de Rochaigue at Madame de Mirecourt's house. I have been devoting my time and attention to a certain matter for nearly a month, but knowing your habitual levity, I would not say a word about it to you. Fortunately, everything has been kept such a close secret between Madame de la Rochaigue, Madame de Mirecourt, and myself, that we are very hopeful--" "Hopeful of what?" "Why, of bringing about a marriage between Mlle. de Beaumesnil and yourself." "A marriage!" cried Gerald, bounding out of his chair. "Yes, a marriage--with the richest heiress in France," replied Madame de Senneterre. Then, without making any effort to conceal her uneasiness, she continued: "If it were not for your conduct, we should have every chance in our favour, though suitors and rivals will soon be pouring in on every side. There will be a hard struggle for the prize, and Heaven knows even the truth will be terribly damaging to you. Ah, if with your name, your talents, and your face you were a model of virtue and propriety like that excellent M. de Macreuse, for example--" "But are you really thinking seriously of this marriage, mother?" asked Gerald, more and more astonished. "Am I thinking of it seriously? You ask me that?" "My dear mother, I am infinitely grateful to you for your kind intentions, but I repeat that I have no desire to marry." "What is that you say?" "I say, my dear mother, that I have no intention of marrying anybody." "_Mon Dieu!_ he is mad!" cried Madame de Senneterre. "He refuses the richest heiress in France!" "Listen, mother," said Gerald, gravely, but tenderly; "I am an honest man, and being such, I confess that I love pleasure above all things, consequently I should make a detestable husband, even for the richest heiress in France." "A colossal fortune--an unheard-of fortune!" faltered Madame de Senneterre, stupefied by this refusal on the part of her son. "An income of over three million francs! Think of it!" "But I love pleasure and my liberty more!" "What you say is abominable!" cried Madame de Senneterre, almost beside herself. "Why, you are an idiot, and worse than an idiot!"