In the meantime Madame Dulaurens continued to shower compliments and attentions on her visitor and got ready to profit by the shyness which she suspected to find. As she heaped up praise on large families, Madame Guibert saw her opportunity to introduce her request. “How good you are, Madame, to say so! Yes, my sons have worked splendidly. And I have come to see you about one of them--about Marcel.” She had no doubt that she gave her to understand that she would never have come to see her without good cause. She praised Alice with tender affection. Her heart inspired her here. “Marcel could not see her without loving her. He remembered that as a child she had said to him in their games, ‘I am so happy with you--I want to stay with you.’ He has requested me to ask you for your dear child’s hand. He promises to make her happy and as to his happiness, you will have assured it for ever.” Madame Dulaurens, who generally had so much to say, was silent, thinking she would thus increase Madame Guibert’s embarrassment. And M. Dulaurens watched her in order to imitate her. Somewhat disturbed by this silence, Marcel’s mother continued softly: “You know that we have no money. My son did not think at all about this, because he loves her. My husband left his children more honor than money. But, although so young, Marcel has a brilliant record, which gives assurance of his future.” And she added in a tone full of dignity, “That is a fortune in itself!” “We feel exceedingly flattered,” said M. Dulaurens at last. He had been struggling between the fear of wounding good Madame Guibert and that of annoying his wife. With a look, the latter silenced him. What had he to do with it? “Certainly we are extremely honored,” she replied with calculated slowness. “The honor takes us by surprise. We were not at all prepared for it.” “Alice did not tell you anything about it then? ... or are you trifling with me?” asked Madame Guibert in great surprise. “Your family has not very much to boast of,” went on Madame Dulaurens quietly. “We know, Madame, that Monsieur Guibert ruined himself to save his brother at Annecy. Unhappily he was unable to save him from suicide and ... liquidation of his affairs.” The word “liquidation” thus pronounced meant bankruptcy; and Madame Guibert could not fail to understand the malice in these words. She had come with a message of love and peace, and was received like an enemy. The injustice brought the blood to her face, and her clear, gentle eyes were troubled. From this point, without being able to explain the feeling to herself, she felt the game was lost. However, she continued: “Oh, there was no liquidation. All the creditors were paid principal and interest. There can be no possible doubt about that. We have as good a reputation at Annecy as at Chambéry.”