Fontaine jumped as if he had been shot. “And what did he say? How is Claire? When are you going to let me out of this infernal confinement, so I can go to see the darling?” “Fie! fie! and you an engaged man,” cried Marsac; at which Fontaine groaned and tore his hair. “But,” continued Marsac, “I have some good news for you. Old Duval has read all the accounts of Uncle Maurice, and has the most childlike faith in him; and I declare, Auguste, I begin to believe in the old fellow myself. Anyhow, Monsieur Duval talked with me a whole hour this afternoon, and you may depend upon it I stuffed him; and the result is--now, don’t go crazy--that he more than hinted at a match between you and Claire.” Fontaine fell on the sofa in an ecstasy, murmuring, “Dear, darling Claire!” “And he is coming to see you very soon, to congratulate you. I told him you were going nowhere on account of your recent bereavement; and, listen to this! The old fellow wants to oblige you; and as I mentioned, by way of corroborative testimony, that you were looking round for a country-seat, he said he would sell you a villa he has at Melun for ninety thousand francs. Now, I know that Maurepas, our editor-in-chief, is wild for that villa; and I have reason to think he will give a hundred and forty thousand francs for it. Do you see?” “Yes,” said Fontaine. “I buy it for ninety thousand, and sell it for a hundred and forty thousand. But will it work?” “Not if you jump down old Duval’s throat when he offers it to you.” “I sha’n’t be able to prevent it.” “Then you will be unworthy of your Uncle Maurice, and I shall be sorry to have provided you with such a relative.” A sound was heard outside. Marsac listened intently, thinking it to be his two friends of the ballet; but it proved not. “I wonder, as much afraid as you are of women,” said Fontaine, “that you should have had the courage to ask those two poor creatures here even for the pleasure of doing a kind action,--for nothing gives you so much pleasure as that.” “Pooh!” replied Marsac. “It is not women I fear, it is matrimony; and I show my regard for the sex by remaining a bachelor. I feel that by not marrying I shall secure one woman, at least, from eternal misery.” [Illustration] Again there was a noise outside the door; and this time it was the two ballet-girls,--Mademoiselle Marie and Mademoiselle Louise, as they introduced themselves. Marsac received them with as much kindness and respect as if they had been banker’s daughters; and as for the girls themselves, they were tawdry yet shabby, and extraordinarily painted and bedizened. But the divinity of woman-hood was not extinguished in them, and modesty itself would not have been abashed in the presence of the four assembled in the garret of No. 17 Rue Montignal.