him
and my affection for you. Be kind: instead of looking black at him, try
to love him. I should be so happy to see you united, and to be able,
without reservation, to think of you both with the same tenderness!"

"Ah! how you talk me over. How charming and caressing you can be when you
like. And how happy Serge ought to be with a wife like you! It is always
the way; men like him always get the best wives."

"I don't suppose, mamma, you came all the way from Paris to run down my
husband to me."

Madame Desvarennes became serious again.

"No; I came to defend you."

Micheline looked surprised.

"It is time for me to speak. You are seriously menaced," continued the
mother.

"In my love?" asked the young wife, in an altered tone.

"No; in your fortune."

Micheline smiled superbly.

"If that be all!"

This indifference made her mother positively jump.

"You speak very coolly about it! At the rate your husband is spending,
there will be nothing left of your dowry in six months."

"Well!" said the Princess, gayly, "you will give us another."

Madame Desvarennes assumed her cold businesslike manner.

"Ta! ta! ta! Do you think there is no limit to my resources? I gave you
four millions when you were married, represented by fifteen hundred
thousand francs, in good stock, a house in the Rue de Rivoli, and eight
hundred thousand francs which I prudently kept in the business, and for
which I pay you interest. The fifteen hundred thousand francs have
vanished. My lawyer came to tell me that the house in the Rue de Rivoli
had been sold without a reinvestment taking place."

The mistress stopped. She had spoken in that frank, determined, way of
hers that was part of her strength. She looked fixedly at Micheline, and
asked:

"Did you know this, my girl?"

The Princess, deeply troubled, because now it was not a question of
sentiment, but of serious moment, answered, in a low tone:

"No, mamma."

"How is that possible?" Madame Desvarennes demanded, hotly. "Nothing can
be done without your signature."

"I gave it," murmured Micheline.

"You gave it!" repeated the mistress in a tone of anger. "When?"

"The day after my marriage."

"Your husband had the impudence to ask for it the day after your
marriage?"

Micheline smiled.

"He did not ask for it, mamma," she replied, with sweetness; "I offered
it to him. You had settled all on me."

"Prudently! With a fellow like your husband!"

"Your mistrust must