Bernard would have felt the injustice to be unbearable if he had not had a strong sense of his own merits. Moreover, it was obvious that Aglae was thoroughly upset. As to the man in the too-much-laced coat, Bernard remembered that he was dressed very splendidly indeed. He had called first in company of a very fine English gentleman, a friend of the family, and he had repeated the call always with that same friend. It was a fact he had never called by himself yet. The family had dined with him only the day before, as Bernard knew very well because he had had to call the hackney coach and had given the address, not to mention the confidential task of carrying the Marquise down the stairs and then up again on their return from that entertainment. There could be nothing wrong with a man with whom the family dined. And the Marquise herself too, she who, so to speak, never went out anywhere! "What has he done?" he asked without marked excitement. "I have never seen you so distressed. Miss Aglae." "Me upset? I should think me upset. I fear him wants carry off Mlle. Adèle--poor child." This staggered the faithful Bernard. "I should like him to try," he said pugnaciously. "I keep a cudgel there in this passage." A scornful exclamation from the maid made him pause. "Oh!" he said in a changed tone, "carry her off for a wife? Well, what's wrong in that?" "Oh! you silly!" whimpered Aglae. "Can't you see him twice, twice and a half, the age of Miss Adèle?" Bernard remained silent a minute. "Fine-looking man," he remarked at last. "Do you know anything else about him?" "Him got plenty of money," sobbed out Aglae. "I suppose the parents will have something to say about that," said Bernard, after a short meditation. "And if Mlle. Adèle herself . . ." But Aglae wailed under her breath, as it were. "It's done, Bernard, it's done!" Bernard, fascinated, stared upwards at the maid. A mental reference to abundance of money for marketing flashed through his mind. "I suppose Mlle. Adèle can love a man like that. Why not?" "Him got very fine clothes certainly," hissed Aglae furiously. Then she broke down and became full of desolation. "Oh, Bernard, them poor people, you should have seen their faces this morning when I served the breakfast. I feel as if I must make a big howl while I give plate to M. le Marquis. I hardly dare to look at anybody." "And Mademoiselle?" asked Bernard in an anxious whisper. "I don't like to look at her either," went on Aglae in a tone of anguish. "She got quite a flush on her face. She think it very great and fine, make everybody rich. I ready to die with sorrow, Bernard. She don't know. She too young. Why don't you cry with me?--you great stupid man." III