y talking up at you."

The words were reasonable, and they were said in a tone that showed the
old gentleman was not likely to be frightened by grand airs. La Peyrade
therefore deferred to the wishes of his host, but he took care to do so
with the worst grace possible.

"Monsieur Cerizet," said du Portail, "a man of excellent standing in the
world, and who has the honor to be one of your friends--"

"I have nothing to do with that man now," said la Peyrade, sharply,
understanding the malicious meaning of the old man's speech.

"Well, the time has been," said du Portail, "when you saw him, at least,
occasionally: for instance, when you paid for his dinner at the Rocher
de Cancale. As I was saying, I charged the virtuous Monsieur Cerizet to
sound you as to a marriage--"

"Which I refused," interrupted la Peyrade, "and which I now refuse
again, more vehemently than ever."

"That's the question," said the old man. "I think, on the contrary, that
you will accept it; and it is to talk over this affair with you that I
have so long desired a meeting."

"But this crazy girl that you are flinging at my head," said la Peyrade,
"what is she to you? She can't be your daughter, or you would put more
decency into your hunt for a husband."

"This young girl," replied du Portail, "is the daughter of one of my
friends who died about ten years ago; at his death I took her to live
with me, and have given her all the care her sad condition needed. Her
fortune, which I have greatly increased, added to my own, which I intend
to leave to her, will make her a very rich heiress. I know that you
are no enemy to handsome 'dots,' for you have sought them in various
places,--Thuillier's house, for instance, or, to use your own
expression, that of a strumpet whom you scarcely knew. I have therefore
supposed you would accept at my hands a very rich young woman,
especially as her infirmity is declared by the best physicians to be
curable; whereas you can never cure Monsieur and Mademoiselle Thuillier,
the one of being a fool, the other of being a fury, any more than you
could cure Madame Komorn of being a woman of very medium virtue and
extremely giddy."

"It may suit me," replied la Peyrade, "to marry the daughter of a fool
and a fury if I choose her, or I might become the husband of a clever
coquette, if passion seized me, but the Queen of Sheba herself, if
imposed upon me, neither you, monsieur, nor the ablest and most powerful
man living