“I wish he were too,” said Madame Fleury. “I was just speaking of a valuable paper I took with me to Passy that evening I was there. By an unfortunate oversight on my part Monsieur Marsac got hold of it, and tore it into bits, which he afterward tried to burn up. I saved the scraps, but I was not able to put the charred pieces together. Therefore I gave an expert one hundred and fifty francs to restore it. He has just returned it to me, and I have not yet had a chance to open it; but I will do it now, and I would like Monsieur Marsac to see how much cleverer I am than he is.” Madame Fleury produced an envelope from her card-case, tore it open, and then stood petrified for a moment. “Why--it is--it is--” she stammered. “A bill of Landais the tailor,” maliciously put in Fontaine. “That is what he tore up.” [Illustration] “And what you paid one hundred and fifty francs to have restored,” Delphine chimed in. “Madame Fleury,” said Fontaine, determinedly, “I have put up with this hounding of me as long as I intend to. I shall to-day report it to the police, and ask protection.” Instead of flying into a rage at this, Madame Fleury executed a masterly _coup_. Pressing her handkerchief to her eyes, she almost fell upon old Duval’s shoulder, crying, “Monsieur Duval, will you stand by and see me so affronted?” “No, Madame Fleury,” sturdily answered Monsieur Duval, with his arm half round her waist. “Never mind, Madame Fleury. If he reports you to the police, Madame Fleury, he will have to reckon with me, Madame Fleury. I know I’m old enough to be your father, but if you’ll marry me, Madame Fleury, you’ll find me a great improvement on that rascally count you married first; and you may be Madame Duval any day you like.” At this a faint shriek burst from the two girls; and Fontaine, who had not dreamed the old man capable of such folly, couldn’t repress an exclamation. However, he took Claire’s hand, and said to her tenderly,-- “Well, my dear one, the only thing for you to do now is to trust me, and become my wife at the earliest moment possible.” [Illustration] Claire felt at that moment as if she had but one earthly dependence; she clung to Fontaine, and weeping said, “I will marry you whenever you like; for I cannot, and never will, countenance my father’s marriage to this creature.” “And even I would marry to escape living with this woman,” said Delphine, in much agitation. “I would marry Monsieur Marsac, or commit suicide even, rather than live in the house with her.” Delphine was scarcely conscious of what she said, but a gleam of wicked amusement in Madame Fleury’s eyes showed her that she had made a dangerous slip.