“I can say as much to you. Perhaps, dear Paul, my Spanish nature has led me farther than my heart desired. Be what you are,--kind as God himself,--and do not be angry with me for a few hasty words. Shake hands.” Paul was abashed; he fancied himself to blame, and he kissed Madame Evangelista. “Dear Paul,” she said with much emotion, “why could not those two sharks have settled this matter without dragging us into it, since it was so easy to settle?” “In that case I should not have known how grand and generous you can be,” replied Paul. “Indeed she is, Paul,” cried Natalie, pressing his hand. “We have still a few little matters to settle, my dear son,” said Madame Evangelista. “My daughter and I are above the foolish vanities to which so many persons cling. Natalie does not need my diamonds, but I am glad to give them to her.” “Ah! my dear mother, do you suppose that I will accept them?” “Yes, my child; they are one of the conditions of the contract.” “I will not allow it; I will not marry at all,” cried Natalie, vehemently. “Keep those jewels which my father took such pride in collecting for you. How could Monsieur Paul exact--” “Hush, my dear,” said her mother, whose eyes now filled with tears. “My ignorance of business compels me to a greater sacrifice than that.” “What sacrifice?” “I must sell my house in order to pay the money that I owe to you.” “What money can you possibly owe to me?” she said; “to me, who owe you life! If my marriage costs you the slightest sacrifice, I will not marry.” “Child!” “Dear Natalie, try to understand that neither I, nor your mother, nor you yourself, require these sacrifices, but our children.” “Suppose I do not marry at all?” “Do you not love me?” said Paul, tenderly. “Come, come, my silly child; do you imagine that a contract is like a house of cards which you can blow down at will? Dear little ignoramus, you don’t know what trouble we have had to found an entail for the benefit of your eldest son. Don’t cast us back into the discussions from which we have just escaped.” “Why do you wish to ruin my mother?” said Natalie, looking at Paul. “Why are you so rich?” he replied, smiling. “Don’t quarrel, my children, you are not yet married,” said Madame Evangelista. “Paul,” she continued, “you are not to give either corbeille, or jewels, or trousseau. Natalie has everything in profusion. Lay by the money you would otherwise put into wedding presents. I know nothing more stupidly bourgeois and commonplace than to spend a hundred thousand francs on a corbeille, when five thousand a year given to a young woman saves her much anxiety and lasts her lifetime. Besides, the money for a corbeille is needed to decorate your house in Paris. We will return to Lanstrac in the spring; for Solonet is to settle my debts during the winter.” “All is for the best,” cried Paul, at the summit of happiness. “So I shall see Paris!” cried Natalie, in a tone that would justly have alarmed de Marsay.