your means of
information, which I do not seek to penetrate. I have mine, which I wish
to keep to myself. I can, in any case, answer for the correctness of my
information."

Then she murmured: "Yes, it is quite possible. I fancied they were up to
something without us."

But George, who no longer felt sleepy, had drawn closer to his wife, and
gently kissed her ear. She repulsed him sharply. "I beg of you to leave
me alone. I am not in a mood to romp." He turned resignedly towards the
wall, and having closed his eyes, ended by falling asleep.

XIV

The church was draped with black, and over the main entrance a huge
scutcheon, surmounted by a coronet, announced to the passers-by that a
gentleman was being buried. The ceremony was just over, and those
present at it were slowly dispersing, defiling past the coffin and the
nephew of the Count de Vaudrec, who was shaking extended hands and
returning bows. When George Du Roy and his wife came out of the church
they began to walk homeward side by side, silent and preoccupied. At
length George said, as though speaking to himself: "Really, it is very
strange."

"What, dear?" asked Madeleine.

"That Vaudrec should not have left us anything."

She blushed suddenly, as though a rosy veil had been cast over her white
skin, and said: "Why should he have left us anything? There was no
reason for it." Then, after a few moments' silence, she went on: "There
is perhaps a will in the hands of some notary. We know nothing as yet."

He reflected for a short time, and then murmured: "Yes, it is probable,
for, after all, he was the most intimate friend of us both. He dined
with us twice a week, called at all hours, and was at home at our place,
quite at home in every respect. He loved you like a father, and had no
children, no brothers and sisters, nothing but a nephew, and a nephew he
never used to see. Yes, there must be a will. I do not care for much,
only a remembrance to show that he thought of us, that he loved us, that
he recognized the affection we felt for him. He certainly owed us some
such mark of friendship."

She said in a pensive and indifferent manner: "It is possible, indeed,
that there may be a will."

As they entered their rooms, the man-servant handed a letter to
Madeleine. She opened it, and then held it out to her husband. It ran as
follows:

"Office of Maitre Lamaneur, Notary,
"17 Rue des Vosges.

"MADAME: I have the honor to beg you