Valerie loved you so well," replied Lisbeth. "She
is frivolous and a coquette, she loves to have attentions paid her, and
to have the comedy of love-making performed for her, as she says; but
you are her only real attachment."

"What message did she send me?"

"Why, this," said Lisbeth. "She has, as you know, been on intimate terms
with Crevel. You must owe her no grudge, for that, in fact, is what has
raised her above utter poverty for the rest of her life; but she detests
him, and matters are nearly at an end.--Well, she has kept the key of
some rooms--"

"Rue du Dauphin!" cried the thrice-blest Baron. "If it were for that
alone, I would overlook Crevel.--I have been there; I know."

"Here, then, is the key," said Lisbeth. "Have another made from it in
the course of to-morrow--two if you can."

"And then," said Hulot eagerly.

"Well, I will dine at your house again to-morrow; you must give me back
Valerie's key, for old Crevel might ask her to return it to him, and you
can meet her there the day after; then you can decide what your facts
are to be. You will be quite safe, as there are two ways out. If by
chance Crevel, who is _Regence_ in his habits, as he is fond of saying,
should come in by the side street, you could go out through the shop, or
_vice versa_.

"You owe all this to me, you old villain; now what will you do for me?"

"Whatever you want."

"Then you will not oppose my marrying your brother?"

"You! the Marechale Hulot, the Comtesse de Frozheim?" cried Hector,
startled.

"Well, Adeline is a Baroness!" retorted Betty in a vicious and
formidable tone. "Listen to me, you old libertine. You know how matters
stand; your family may find itself starving in the gutter--"

"That is what I dread," said Hulot in dismay.

"And if your brother were to die, who would maintain your wife and
daughter? The widow of a Marshal gets at least six thousand francs
pension, doesn't she? Well, then, I wish to marry to secure bread for
your wife and daughter--old dotard!"

"I had not seen it in that light!" said the Baron. "I will talk to my
brother--for we are sure of you.--Tell my angel that my life is hers."

And the Baron, having seen Lisbeth go into the house in the Rue Vanneau,
went back to his whist and stayed at home. The Baroness was at the
height of happiness; her husband seemed to be returning to domestic
habits; for about a fortnight he went to his office at nine every
morning, he came in to dinner