In short, my youthful imagination was fired, and my young heart instinctively desired the loss of Madame d’Ionis’ fortune. While she talked with animation about the annoyances of wealth and the happiness of a reduced condition _à la_ Jean-Jacques Rousseau, I made such rapid strides in my romance that it seemed as if she were deigning to guess at my thoughts and was alluding to them in each one of the intoxicating words that fell from her lips. I did not however surrender openly. My word was pledged; I could only promise to try and dissuade my father. I could give no assurance of success, for I did not myself participate in any. I knew the firmness of his decisions. The solution was approaching, we had reached the termination of delays and evasive procedures. Madame d’Ionis proposed a plan, in case she should bring me over to her views. It was that my father should feign illness when the time arrived to plead the cause, that the case then should be confided to me, and that I should lose it! I confess that I took fright at this hypothesis and that I then understood my father’s scruples. To hold in one’s hands the destiny of a client and to sacrifice her rights to a question of sentiment, is a fine role when one can fill it openly and by her order; but such was not my position. On account of M. d’Ionis, it was necessary to preserve appearances, to execute errors adroitly, and to employ deceit in order that virtue might triumph. I became frightened, I grew pale, I almost wept, for I was in love, and the idea of refusing broke my heart. “Let us say no more about it,” said Madame d’Ionis kindly, she seemed now to divine, if she had not already done so, the passion she had awakened in me. “Pardon me for having put your conscience to this proof. No! You must not sacrifice it to mine, we must find some other means of securing these poor adversaries. We will search for it together, for you are on my side, I see it, I feel it, in spite of yourself. You must stay with me for several days. Write to your father that I am resisting and that you are endeavoring to overcome my scruples. To my mother-in-law, we will have the appearance of studying the chances of success together. She is persuaded that I am a born lawyer, and Heaven is my witness, that before this deplorable affair, I knew no more about such things than she herself, which isn’t saying much! Come,” she added, resuming her charming and sympathetic gayety, “do not let us torment ourselves and don’t be so sad! We will contrive to find some cause for delay. Ah! I have one now, a most singular and absurd one, but which none the less would exercise an all-powerful influence over the mind of the good dowager, and even over M. d’Ionis. Can’t you guess it?” “I have no idea what you mean.” “Well then it is this, to make the green ladies speak.” “What! really, does M. d’Ionis share his mother’s credulity?”