this idea had developed in Julien's brain, he seized upon it with
the precipitation of a drowning man, who distractedly lays hold of the
first object that seems to offer him a means of safety, whether it be a
dead branch or a reed.

"Listen," he resumed; "at the very first explanation that we had
together, I told you I did not intend to deprive you of your right to a
portion of your natural father's inheritance. Until now, you have taken
my word for it, and we have lived at the chateau like two brothers. But
now that a miserable question of money alone prevents you from marrying
the woman you love, it is important that you should be legally provided
for. We will go to-morrow to Monsieur Arbillot, and ask him to draw up
the deed, making over to you from me one half of the fortune of Claude de
Buxieres. You will then be, by law, and in the eyes of all, one of the
desirable matches of the canton, and you can demand the hand of
Mademoiselle Vincart, without any fear of being thought presumptuous or
mercenary."

Claudet, to whom this conclusion was wholly unexpected, was
thunderstruck. His emotion was so great that it prevented him from
speaking. In the obscurity of the room his deep-set eyes seemed larger,
and shone with the tears he could not repress.

"Monsieur Julien," said he, falteringly, "I can not find words to thank
you. I am like an idiot. And to think that only a little while ago I
suspected you of being tired of me, and regretting your benefits toward
me! What an animal I am! I measure others by myself. Well! can you
forgive me? If I do not express myself well, I feel deeply, and all I can
say is that you have made me very happy!" He sighed heavily. "The
question is now," continued he, "whether Reine will have me! You may not
believe me, Monsieur de Buxieres, but though I may seem very bold and
resolute, I feel like a wet hen when I get near her. I have a dreadful
panic that she will send me away as I came. I don't know whether I can
ever find courage to ask her."

"Why should she refuse you?" said Julien, sadly, "she knows that you love
her. Do you suppose she loves any one else?"

"That I don't know. Although Reine is very frank, she does not let every
one know what is passing in her mind, and with these young girls, I tell
you, one is never sure of anything. That is just what I fear may be
possible."

"If you fear the ordeal," said de Buxieres, with a visible effort, "would
you like me to present the m