l amply suffice
for the fortunes of the younger children. If the contracting parties
will agree to this arrangement, Monsieur ought certainly to accept your
guardianship account with its deficiency. I consent to that."

"Questa coda non e di questo gatto (That tail doesn't belong to that
cat)," murmured Madame Evangelista, appealing to Solonet.

"There's a snake in the grass somewhere," answered Solonet, in a low
voice, replying to the Italian proverb with a French one.

"Why do you make this fuss?" asked Paul, leading Mathias into the
adjoining salon.

"To save you from being ruined," replied the old notary, in a whisper.
"You are determined to marry a girl and her mother who have already
squandered two millions in seven years; you are pledging yourself to
a debt of eleven hundred thousand francs to your children, to whom
you will have to account for the fortune you are acknowledging to have
received with their mother. You risk having your own fortune squandered
in five years, and to be left as naked as Saint-John himself, besides
being a debtor to your wife and children for enormous sums. If you are
determined to put your life in that boat, Monsieur le comte, of course
you can do as you choose; but at least let me, your old friend, try to
save the house of Manerville."

"How is this scheme going to save it?" asked Paul.

"Monsieur le comte, you are in love--"

"Yes."

"A lover is about as discreet as a cannon-ball; therefore, I shall not
explain. If you repeated what I should say, your marriage would probably
be broken off. I protect your love by my silence. Have you confidence in
my devotion?"

"A fine question!"

"Well, then, believe me when I tell you that Madame Evangelista, her
notary, and her daughter, are tricking us through thick and thin; they
are more than clever. Tudieu! what a sly game!"

"Not Natalie," cried Paul.

"I sha'n't put my fingers between the bark and the tree," said the
old man. "You want her, take her! But I wish you were well out of this
marriage, if it could be done without the least wrong-doing on your
part."

"Why do you wish it?"

"Because that girl will spend the mines of Peru. Besides, see how she
rides a horse,--like the groom of a circus; she is half emancipated
already. Such girls make bad wives."

Paul pressed the old man's hand, saying, with a confident air of
self-conceit:--

"Don't be uneasy as to that! But now, at this moment, what am I to do?"

"Hold fir