The Chevalier's eyes sparkled with delight as he read Angélique's name on the book. A handsome sum of five digits stood to her credit. He bowed his thanks with many warm expressions of his sense of the honor done his sister by “placing her name on the roll of the ladies of the Court who honor the Company by accepting a share of its dividends.” “I hope Mademoiselle des Meloises will not refuse this small mark of our respect,” observed Bigot, feeling well assured she would not deem it a small one. “Little fear of that!” muttered Cadet, whose bad opinion of the sex was incorrigible. “The game fowls of Versailles scratch jewels out of every dung-hill, and Angélique des Meloises has longer claws than any of them!” Cadet's ill-natured remark was either unheard or unheeded; besides, he was privileged to say anything. Des Meloises bowed with an air of perfect complaisance to the Intendant as he answered,--“I guarantee the perfect satisfaction of Angélique with this marked compliment of the Grand Company. She will, I am sure, appreciate the kindness of the Intendant as it deserves.” Cadet and Varin exchanged smiles, not unnoticed by Bigot, who smiled too. “Yes, Chevalier,” said he, “the Company gives this token of its admiration for the fairest lady in New France. We have bestowed premiums upon fine flax and fat cattle: why not upon beauty, grace, and wit embodied in handsome women?” “Angélique will be highly flattered, Chevalier,” replied he, “at the distinction. She must thank you herself, as I am sure she will.” “I am happy to try to deserve her thanks,” replied Bigot; and, not caring to talk further on the subject,--“what news in the city this afternoon, Chevalier?” asked he; “how does that affair at Belmont go off?” “Don't know. Half the city has gone, I think. At the Church door, however, the talk among the merchants is that peace is going to be made soon. Is it so very threatening, Bigot?” “If the King wills it, it is.” Bigot spoke carelessly. “But your own opinion, Chevalier Bigot; what think you of it?” “Amen! amen! Quod fiat fiatur! Seigny John, the fool of Paris, could enlighten you as well as I could as to what the women at Versailles may decide to do,” replied Bigot in a tone of impatience. “I fear peace will be made. What will you do in that case, Bigot?” asked Des Meloises, not noticing Bigot's aversion to the topic. “If the King makes it, invitus amabo! as the man said who married the shrew.” Bigot laughed mockingly. “We must make the best of it, Des Meloises! and let me tell you privately, I mean to make a good thing of it for ourselves whichever way it turns.” “But what will become of the Company should the war expenditure stop?” The Chevalier was thinking of his dividend of five figures. “Oh! you should have been here sooner, Des Meloises: you would have heard our grand settlement of the question in every contingency of peace or war.”