d that, consequently it will be easy for you to pretend
that you have just arrived from some journey. This step will doubtless be
some exertion to you; you will have to leave your arm-chair and take a
little trouble; but you will make two people happy, madame, and if you
have ever known love, I hope you will not refuse me."

The old lady, during this discourse, had been in turn surprised, anxious,
touched, and delighted. The last words persuaded her.

"Yes, my child," she repeated several times, "I know what it is,--I know
what it is."

As she said this she made an effort to rise; her feeble limbs could barely
support her; Julie quickly advanced and put out her hand to help her; by
an almost involuntary movement they found themselves, in an instant, in
each other's arms.

A treaty was at once concluded; a warm kiss sealed it in advance, and the
necessary and confidential consultation followed without further trouble.

All the explanations having been made, the good lady drew from her
wardrobe a venerable gown of taffeta, which had been her wedding-dress.
This antique piece of property was not less than fifty years old; but not
a spot, not a grain of dust had disfigured it; Julie was in ecstasies over
it. A coach was sent for, the handsomest in the town. The good lady
prepared the speech she was going to make to Monsieur Godeau; Julie tried
to teach her how she was to touch the heart of her father, and did not
hesitate to confess that love of rank was his vulnerable point.

"If you could imagine," said she, "a means of flattering this weakness,
you will have won our cause."

The good lady pondered deeply, finished her toilet without Another word,
clasped the hands of her future niece, and entered the carriage.

She soon arrived at the Godeau mansion; there, she braced herself up so
gallantly for her entrance that she seemed ten years younger. She
majestically crossed the drawing-room where Julie's bouquet had fallen,
and when the door of the boudoir opened, said in a firm voice to the
lackey who preceded her:

"Announce the dowager Baroness de Croisilles."

These words settled the happiness of the two lovers. Monsieur Godeau was
bewildered by them. Although five hundred thousand francs seemed little to
him, he consented to everything, in order to make his daughter a baroness,
and such she became;--who would dare contest her title? For my part, I
think she had thoroughly earned it.

THE VASE OF CLAY

BY