y left some seven or eight hundred thousand francs--they say
twelve--but there is stock-in-trade to be sold. I am the chief in our
common interests, and act for you."

"Oh!" cried Dinah, "in everything that relates to business, I trust no
one but Monsieur de Clagny. He knows the law, come to terms with him;
what he does, will be done right."

"I have no occasion for Monsieur de Clagny," answered Monsieur de la
Baudraye, "to take my children from you--"

"Your children!" exclaimed Dinah. "Your children, to whom you have not
sent a sou! _Your_ children!" She burst into a loud shout of laughter;
but Monsieur de la Baudraye's unmoved coolness threw ice on the
explosion.

"Your mother has just brought them to show me," he went on. "They are
charming boys. I do not intend to part from them. I shall take them to
our house at Anzy, if it were only to save them from seeing their mother
disguised like a--"

"Silence!" said Madame de la Baudraye imperatively. "What do you want of
me that brought you here?"

"A power of attorney to receive our Uncle Silas' property."

Dinah took a pen, wrote two lines to Monsieur de Clagny, and desired her
husband to call again in the afternoon.

At five o'clock, Monsieur de Clagny--who had been promoted to the
post of Attorney-General--enlightened Madame de la Baudraye as to her
position; still, he undertook to arrange everything by a bargain with
the old fellow, whose visit had been prompted by avarice alone. Monsieur
de la Baudraye, to whom his wife's power of attorney was indispensable
to enable him to deal with the business as he wished, purchased it by
certain concessions. In the first place, he undertook to allow her
ten thousand francs a year so long as she found it convenient--so the
document was worded--to reside in Paris; the children, each on attaining
the age of six, were to be placed in Monsieur de la Baudraye's keeping.
Finally, the lawyer extracted the payment of the allowance in advance.

Little La Baudraye, who came jauntily enough to say good-bye to his wife
and _his_ children, appeared in a white india-rubber overcoat. He was
so firm on his feet, and so exactly like the La Baudraye of 1836, that
Dinah despaired of ever burying the dreadful little dwarf. From the
garden, where he was smoking a cigar, the journalist could watch
Monsieur de la Baudraye for so long as it took the little reptile to
cross the forecourt, but that was enough for Lousteau; it was plain to
him