be the bearer of such a tale. To admit that
Mademoiselle Micheline could break her word or her engagements is to
slander her, and if any one other than you--"

"There, there, my dear friend," said Savinien, laughing, "don't get into
a rage. What I say to you I would not repeat to the first comer; besides,
I am only the echo of a rumor that has been going the round during the
last three weeks. They even give the name of him who has been chosen for
the honor and pleasure of such a brilliant conquest. I mean Prince Serge
Panine."

"As you have mentioned Prince Panine," replied Marechal, "allow me to
tell you that he has not put his foot inside Madame Desvarennes's door
for three weeks. This is not the way of a man about to marry the daughter
of the house."

"My dear fellow, I only repeat what I have heard. As for me, I don't know
any more. I have kept out of the way for more than three months. And
besides, it matters little to me whether Micheline be a commoner or a
princess, the wife of Delarue or of Panine. I shall be none the richer or
the poorer, shall I? Therefore I need not care. The dear child will
certainly have millions enough to marry easily. And her adopted sister,
the stately Mademoiselle Jeanne, what has become of her?"

"Ah! as to Mademoiselle de Cernay, that is another affair," cried
Marechal.

And as if wishing to divert the conversation in an opposite direction to
which Savinien had led it a moment before, he spoke readily of Madame
Desvarennes's adopted daughter. She had made a lively impression on one
of the intimate friends of the house--the banker Cayrol, who had offered
his name and his fortune to the fair Jeanne.

This was a cause of deep amazement to Savinien. What! Cayrol! The shrewd
close--fisted Auvergnat! A girl without a fortune! Cayrol Silex as he was
called in the commercial world on account of his hardness. This living
money-bag had a heart then! It was necessary to believe it since both
money-bag and heart had been placed at Mademoiselle de Cernay's feet.
This strange girl was certainly destined to millions. She had just missed
being Madame Desvarennes's heiress, and now Cayrol had taken it into his
head to marry her.

But that was not all. And when Marechal told Savinien that the fair
Jeanne flatly refused to become the wife of Cayrol, there was an outburst
of joyful exclamations. She refused! By Jove, she was mad! An
unlooked-for marriage--for she had not a penny, and had most ex