"Is not M. Ferrand a terrible man?" said Madame d'Orbigny, affectedly. "Mind now, I tell you, that, if he has charge of your affairs, he will scold you awfully. He is the most unpitying man--But that's my nonsense; on the contrary, why, such an exquisite as you to have M. Ferrand for his solicitor is a proof of reformation, for we know very well that he never allows his clients to do foolish things; if they do, he gives up their business. Oh, he will not be everybody's lawyer!" Then, turning to Jacques Ferrand: "Do you know, most puritanical solicitor, that you have made a splendid conversion there? If you reform the exquisite of exquisites, the King of the Mode--" "It is really a conversion, madame. The viscount left my study a very different man from what he entered it." "There, I tell you that you perform miracles!" "Ah, madame, you flatter me," said Jacques Ferrand, with emphasis. M. de Saint-Remy made a low bow to Madame d'Orbigny, and then, as he left the notary, desirous of trying once more to excite his pity, he said to him, in a careless tone, which, however, betrayed deep anxiety: "Then, my dear M. Ferrand, you will not grant me the favour I ask?" "Some wild scheme, no doubt. Be inexorable, my dear Puritan," cried Madame d'Orbigny, laughing. "You hear, sir? I must not contradict such a handsome lady." "My dear M. Ferrand, let us speak seriously of serious things, and, you know, this is a most serious matter. Do you really refuse me?" inquired the viscount, with an anxiety which he could not altogether dissemble. The notary was cruel enough to appear to hesitate; M. de Saint-Remy had an instant's hope. "What, man of iron, do you yield?" said Madame d'Harville's stepmother, laughing still. "Do you, too, yield to the charm of the irresistible?" "_Ma foi_, madame! I was on the point of yielding, as you say; but you make me blush for my weakness," added M. Ferrand. And then, addressing himself to the viscount, he said to him, with an accent of which Saint-Remy felt all the meaning, "Well then, seriously," (and he dwelt on the word), "it is impossible." "Ah, the Puritan! Hark to the Puritan!" said Madame d'Orbigny. "See M. Petit-Jean. He will think precisely as I do, I am sure, and, like me, will say to you 'No!'" M. de Saint-Remy rushed out in despair. After a moment's reflection he said to himself, "It must be so!" Then he added, addressing his chasseur, who was standing with the door of his carriage opened, "To the Hotel de Lucenay." Whilst M. de Saint-Remy is on his way to see the duchess, we will present the reader at the interview between M. Ferrand and the stepmother of Madame d'Harville. CHAPTER V. THE CLIENTS.