“Oh, yes! trust me, Dame Bédard. I have made it a donation entre vifs, révocable pour cause d'ingratitude, if your future son-in-law, Antoine la Chance, should fail in his duty to you and to Zoë.” “And he won't do his duty to Zoë, unless he does it to me, Master Pothier. But are you sure it is strong enough? Will it hold Dame La Chance by the foot, so that she cannot revoke her gifts although I may revoke mine?” “Hold Dame La Chance by the foot? It will hold her as fast as a snapping-turtle does a frog. In proof of it, see what Ricard says, page 970; here is the book.” Master Pothier opened his tattered volume, and held it up to the dame. She shook her head. “Thanks, I have mislaid my glasses. Do you read, please!” “Most cheerfully, good dame! A notary must have eyes for everybody--eyes like a cat's, to see in the dark, and power to draw them in like a turtle, so that he may see nothing that he does not want to see.” “Oh, bless the eyes of the notary!” Dame Bédard grew impatient. “Tell me what the book says about gifts revocable--that is what concerns me and Zoë.” “Well, here it is, dame: 'Donations stipulated revocable at the pleasure of the donor are null. But this condition does not apply to donations by contract of marriage.' Bourdon also says--” “A fig for Bourdon, and all such drones! I want my gift made revocable, and Dame La Chance's not! I know by long experience with my dear feu Bédard how necessary it is to hold the reins tight over the men. Antoine is a good boy, but he will be all the better for a careful mother-in-law's supervision.” Master Pothier rubbed the top of his wig with his forefinger. “Are you sure, dame, that Antoine La Chance will wear the bridle easily?” “Assuredly! I should like to see son-in-law of mine who would not! Besides, Antoine is in the humor just now to refuse nothing for sake of Zoë. Have you mentioned the children, Master Pothier? I do not intend to let Dame La Chance control the children any more than Zoë and Antoine.” “I have made you tutrice perpetuelle, as we say in the court, and here it is,” said he, placing the tip of his finger on a certain line in the document. Zoë looked down and blushed to her finger-ends. She presently rallied, and said with some spirit,--“Never mind them, Master Pothier! Don't put them in the contract! Let Antoine have something to say about them. He would take me without a dower, I know, and time enough to remind him about children when they come.” “Take you without dower! Zoë Bédard! you must be mad!” exclaimed the dame, in great heat. “No girl in New France can marry without a dower, if it be only a pot and a bedstead! You forget, too, that the dower is given, not so much for you, as to keep up the credit of the family. As well be married without a ring! Without a dower, indeed!” “Or without a contract written by a notary, signed, sealed, and delivered!” chimed in Master Pothier.