This was a young man named Solonet, considered the ablest notary in Bordeaux; now twenty-seven years of age and decorated with the Legion of honor for having actively contributed to the second return of the Bourbons. Proud and happy to be received in the home of Madame Evangelista, less as a notary than as belonging to the royalist society of Bordeaux, Solonet had conceived for that fine setting sun one of those passions which women like Madame Evangelista repulse, although flattered and graciously allowing them to exist upon the surface. Solonet remained therefore in a self-satisfied condition of hope and becoming respect. Being sent for, he arrived the next morning with the promptitude of a slave and was received by the coquettish widow in her bedroom, where she allowed him to find her in a very becoming dishabille. “Can I,” she said, “count upon your discretion and your entire devotion in a discussion which will take place in my house this evening? You will readily understand that it relates to the marriage of my daughter.” The young man expended himself in gallant protestations. “Now to the point,” she said. “I am listening,” he replied, checking his ardor. Madame Evangelista then stated her position baldly. “My dear lady, that is nothing to be troubled about,” said Maitre Solonet, assuming a confident air as soon as his client had given him the exact figures. “The question is how have you conducted yourself toward Monsieur de Manerville? In this matter questions of manner and deportment are of greater importance than those of law and finance.” Madame Evangelista wrapped herself in dignity. The notary learned to his satisfaction that until the present moment his client’s relations to Paul had been distant and reserved, and that partly from native pride and partly from involuntary shrewdness she had treated the Comte de Manerville as in some sense her inferior and as though it were an honor for him to be allowed to marry Mademoiselle Evangelista. She assured Solonet that neither she nor her daughter could be suspected of any mercenary interests in the marriage; that they had the right, should Paul make any financial difficulties, to retreat from the affair to an illimitable distance; and finally, that she had already acquired over her future son-in-law a very remarkable ascendancy. “If that is so,” said Solonet, “tell me what are the utmost concessions you are willing to make.” “I wish to make as few as possible,” she answered, laughing. “A woman’s answer,” cried Solonet. “Madame, are you anxious to marry Mademoiselle Natalie?” “Yes.” “And you want a receipt for the eleven hundred and fifty-six thousand francs, for which you are responsible on the guardianship account which the law obliges you to render to your son-in-law?” “Yes.” “How much do you want to keep back?” “Thirty thousand a year, at least.” “It is a question of conquer or die, is it?” “It is.”