Madame Fleury then rose majestically. “Gentlemen, this matter must be settled at once. You have your choice,--a marriage, or an eviction within twenty-four hours, and all the arrears of rent paid.” Fontaine, who was gradually returning to his senses, said, “But, Madame, it is impossible. Marsac has no shoes; I have no clothes--” “If you do not choose to accept my proposition, Monsieur Fontaine,” coolly interrupted Madame Fleury, “you will be put into the street within twenty-four hours; and when you reach the street, you will be arrested for non-payment of rent.” “And if I go into the street without any coat or trousers, I shall certainly be arrested,” answered Fontaine, desperately. Madame Fleury shook her head, as if the whole affair were nothing to her. [Illustration] Marsac, advancing to Fontaine, whispered in his ear, “Promise her. Promising isn’t marrying, you know. You promise her.” “No, _you_ do it.” “I can’t. She won’t have me. You do it. I have known several men who have escaped with their lives from widows.” Fontaine, thus urged by Marsac, whom he had never resisted in his life, looked helplessly from his friend to his landlady, and from his landlady back to his friend. After all, promising was not marrying, and it was worth a good deal to get her out of the room. Madame Fleury brought matters to a crisis by asking, smiling, “Which shall it be, gentlemen,--an engagement or an eviction?” Fontaine could not bring himself to say the word, but he submitted silently when Marsac, taking his hand, led him to Madame Fleury, and placing their hands together said, with something dangerously near a wink,-- “Take the lovely hand held out to you. Quaff the cup of happiness held to your lips. Madame Fleury, you will exchange for your present name one of the most distinguished names among the great families of France,”--which was true enough as far as Fontaine’s name was concerned. [Illustration] Madame Fleury, whose principle it was to get through quickly with an awkward business, asked Marsac to sit down and write out a little agreement, to be signed by Fontaine and herself. “And it might be as well,” she added, “to name the date of the fulfilment of this promise. Let me see,--this is the 20th of February.” She paused and reflected. Marsac, who had seated himself at the table, reflected too; and then after a moment he said,-- “The 31st of April.” “There is no 31st of April,” replied Madame Fleury. “The first of April would seem appropriate,” kept on Marsac, very gravely. “Don’t trouble yourself to be sarcastic, Monsieur Marsac,” replied Madame Fleury, with cutting emphasis. “It would do admirably if I were marrying you, but otherwise, not.” “The twenty-ninth of February, then.” “This is not leap year.” “Oh, I thought it was.” Madame Fleury did not condescend to notice this fling; and Marsac, writing very slowly, proceeded to draw up an informal agreement to marry, between Marie Fleury and Auguste Fontaine.