“Paul is a miserably cowardly dog,” answered the old man in a fierce undertone. “Paul does not love the girl as she loves him; but what he says is true, only too true, I can feel. Between her father and her lover she would not hesitate for a moment. Ah! unhappy girl, what a terrible future lies before her.” He stopped himself abruptly. “I cannot speak to her myself,” resumed he; “do you, doctor, strive and make her have reason.” Hortebise shrugged his shoulders. “I will see what my powers of oratory can do,” answered he; “but you are not quite yourself to-day. Remember that a chance word will betray the secret of our lives.” “Go at once, and I swear to you that, happen what may, I will be calm.” The doctor went back into Paul’s room, while Tantaine sat down on the topmost stair, his face buried in his hands. Mademoiselle Flavia was just going to Paul, when the doctor again appeared. “What, back again?” asked she petulantly. “I thought that you had been far away by this time.” “I want to say something to you,” answered he, “and something of a rather serious nature. You must not elevate those charming eyebrows. I see you guess what I am going to say, and you are right. I am come to tell you that this is not the proper place for Mademoiselle Rigal.” “I know that.” This unexpected reply, made with the calmest air in the world, utterly disconcerted the smiling doctor. “It seems to me----” began he. “That I ought not to be here; but then, you see, I place duty before cold, worldly dictates. Paul is very ill, and has no one to take care of him except his affianced bride; for has not my father given his consent to our union?” “Flavia, listen to the experience of a man of the world. The nature of men is such that they never forgive a woman for compromising her reputation, even though it be in their own favor. Do you know what people will say twenty-four hours after your marriage? Why, that you had been his mistress for weeks before, and that it was only the knowledge of that fact that inclined your father to consent to the alliance.” Flavia’s face grew crimson. “Very well,” said she, “I will obey, and never say again that I was obstinate; but let me say one word to Paul, and then I will leave him.” The doctor retired, not guessing that this obedience arose from the sudden suspicion which had arisen in Flavia’s mind. “It is done,” said he, as he rejoined Tantaine on the stairs; “let us hasten, for she will follow us at once.” By the time that Tantaine got into the street, he seemed to have recovered a certain amount of his self-command. “We have succeeded,” said he, “but we shall have to work hard, and this marriage must be hastened by every means in our power. It can be celebrated now without any risk, for in twelve hours the only obstacle that stands between that youth there and the colossal fortune of the Champdoce will have vanished away.” Though he had expected something of the kind, the face of the doctor grew very pale.