“This, indeed, is humiliating,” said Marsac, with an offended air. “But, Madame, uncle or no uncle, let me beg of you to give up this pursuit of Fontaine. He loves another woman,--perhaps not so beautiful or attractive as you, but still he loves her. I can invent some plausible story to account for your coming here. I will introduce Monsieur Duval to you; he will, I guarantee, offer to send you back to Paris in a superb victoria.” “No, I thank you.” “In a brougham, then. The brougham is very handsome. I will also introduce you as the Comtesse de Fleury--think of that!--coming from Paris as Madame Fleury in a cab, returning as the Comtesse de Fleury in a splendid private carriage!” Madame Fleury only laughed a little at this. “I know what your offers to serve me mean, and also how much good-will you owe me.” “Do you doubt, Madame, that I have the very highest regard for you? Try me. There is, just behind the house, a well sixty feet deep, and the water of an icy coldness. Just you jump in, and see how quickly I will jump in after you to save you.” Madame Fleury laughed more than ever as she declined this, and said banteringly, “How could I believe you, considering that when I made you an offer you refused me?” “Oh, Madame Fleury!” cried Marsac, actually hanging his head, “surely I said my affections were engaged--or--or I asked time for consideration--or I was too young to marry--or something of the sort. I did not put it in that brutally frank fashion in which you represent me.” [Illustration] “Yes, you did,” replied Madame Fleury. “But I like your proposition that I shall meet Monsieur Duval. I know a good deal about him and his family, but I have never seen him, and this is an admirable opportunity.” The world called Marsac a clever man, but at that moment he felt himself to be the greatest lunkhead in existence. What had he mentioned old Duval’s name for? And at that very moment the old brewer’s curiosity having got the better of his cowardice, he was seen advancing across the terrace. There was no help for it; and Marsac, with a very bad grace, had to present him to the widow. Madame Fleury was a perfect mistress of the art of coquetry as applied to elderly gentlemen. She turned her eyes upon Monsieur Duval with a melting glance that would have put a younger man on his guard. Not so Monsieur Duval. It had been a long time since a woman so young and handsome had made eyes at him, and he relished it exceedingly. All his precautions against widows were thrown to the four winds of heaven. Marsac almost groaned aloud as he saw, in five minutes’ talk, the widow sailing into the old fellow’s good graces. Monsieur Duval offered Madame Fleury a glass of champagne; and when the two sat down together on a rustic bench, Marsac was so overcome with chagrin at the chance he had given his enemy that he turned his back and walked toward the edge of the terrace.