“My dear fellow,” cried Marsac, in a tone of suppressed rapture, as he took out the contract, “here is that cursed paper. She has gone off with a lot of half-burned scraps of an old bill of Landais’s which she thinks is this contract.” Fontaine, without a word, hugged Marsac according to custom; and Claire showed such an evident inclination to do the same that Marsac gave her a truly brotherly embrace, to which Fontaine made no objection. “Here,” Marsac said, tearing the paper, “is half of it for you, Fontaine, and dear Claire; the other half is for Mademoiselle Delphine and me. And,” he added timidly, “we will have a marriage contract between us.” “To be destroyed,” answered Delphine, supplying what she supposed Marsac meant. [Illustration] Then, with laughter and little jokes, and blushes on Claire’s part, the contract was destroyed. Never were four persons merrier, until Claire suddenly asked,-- “Where is papa?” At that moment Marsac happened to glance toward the high-road that crossed a hill about a mile off. The sunset glow was still upon the hill, and Marsac’s keen eyes recognised Monsieur Duval’s victoria, with Madame Fleury in it; and that stout figure in nankeen trousers and gaiters, with the Panama hat on his lap, could be no other than old Duval. The situation flashed upon them. Madame Fleury had bamboozled the old man into taking her back to town in one of his own carriages. Marsac could only point in silent consternation to the carriage. The two girls burst into hysterical tears. Marsac, throwing himself into a chair, groaned aloud; while Fontaine alone, although pretending to be grieved, felt perfectly willing to get rid of Madame Fleury at any price, even by presenting her with the head of his prospective father-in-law on a charger,--after the manner of Herodias, another enterprising would-be widow of a good many years ago. [Illustration] Chapter IV Some weeks now passed, but not in the happiness which might have been expected when it was at least certain that Fontaine and Claire could freely love each other. Old Duval had returned late, the night he had driven with Madame Fleury to Paris, and his conduct since had been such as to make his family miserable. Under pretence of having some repairs made in the Passy villa, he had brought them all back to Paris in the heats of May; and it was tolerably certain that this move was in order to be nearer Madame Fleury. Claire was wretched at this idea; and although, being a timid girl, she dared not question her father, she had every reason to suspect his infatuation for the widow who had come so near wrecking Fontaine’s life.