l never allow Panine
to take part in business."

"Who knows?" said Herzog. "We shall see how the marriage settlements are
drawn up."

"But," cried Cayrol, "I would not have it said that I was leading Madame
Desvarennes's son-in-law into speculations."

"Who is speaking of that?" replied Herzog, coldly. "Am I seeking
shareholders? I have more money than I want; I refuse millions every
day."

"Oh, I know capitalists run after you," said Cayrol, laughingly; "and to
welcome them you affect the scruples of a pretty woman. But let us go and
congratulate the Prince."

While Cayrol and Herzog were exchanging those few words which had such a
considerable influence on the future of Serge Panine--a scene, terrible
in its simplicity, was going on without being noticed. Micheline had
thrown herself with a burst of tenderness into her mother's arms. Serge
was deeply affected by the young girl's affection for him, when a
trembling hand touched his arm. He turned round. Jeanne de Cernay was
before him, pale and wan; her eyes sunken into her head like two black
nails, and her lips tightened by a violent contraction. The Prince stood
thunderstruck at the sight of her. He looked around him. Nobody was
observing him. Pierre was beside Marechal, who was whispering those words
which only true friends can find in the sad hours of life. Madame
Desvarennes was holding Micheline in her arms. Serge approached
Mademoiselle de Cernay. Jeanne still fixed on him the same menacing look.
He was afraid.

"Take care!" he said.

"Of what?" asked the young girl, with a troubled voice. "What have I to
fear now?"

"What do you wish?" resumed Panine, with old firmness, and with a gesture
of impatience.

"I wish to speak with you immediately."

"You see that is impossible."

"I must."

Cayrol and Herzog approached. Serge smiled at Jeanne with a sign of the
head which meant "Yes." The young girl turned away in silence, awaiting
the fulfilment of the promise made.

Cayrol took her by the hand with tender familiarity.

"What were you saying to the happy man who has gained the object of his
dreams, Mademoiselle? It is not to him you must speak, but to me, to give
me hope. The moment is propitious; it is the day for betrothals. You know
how much I love you; do me the favor of no longer repulsing me as you
have done hitherto! If you would be kind, how charming it would be to
celebrate the two weddings on the same day. One church, one ceremony, on