e
chateau in question. There are towers and Gothic turrets quite _a la
Louis Quatorze_, the real _renaissance_, and, in a word, all that is
most _rococo_. It would give me a kind of landed proprietor's sort of
air which would be capital. It would not be like my _amour_ with that
flirt of a Madame d'Harville. Has she really cut me? Can she really have
given me the 'go-by?' No, no! I am not trifled with as that stupid
porteress in the Rue du Temple, with her bob-wig, says. Yet this
agreeable little flirtation has cost me at least one thousand crowns.
True, the furniture is left, and I have quite enough in my power to
compromise the marchioness. But here comes the lawyer!"

M. Ferrand returned, holding in his hands some papers, which he handed
to M. Charles Robert.

"Here," said he, "are three hundred and fifty thousand francs in
bank-bills. In a few days we will balance the account of interest. Give
me a receipt."

"What!" exclaimed M. Robert, astonished; "do not go to think that--"

"I don't think anything."

"But--"

"The receipt!"

"Dear cashkeeper!"

"Write it; and tell the persons who talk to you of my embarrassments,
how I reply to such suspicions."

"The fact is that, as soon as they hear this, your credit will be more
solid than ever. But, really, take the money back again; I do not want
it at this moment. I told you it was three months hence."

"Monsieur Charles Robert, no man suspects me twice."

"You are angry?"

"The receipt,--the receipt!"

"Man of iron, that you are!" said M. Charles Robert. "There!" he added,
writing the receipt. "There is a lady, closely veiled, who desires to
speak to you directly on a very urgent affair. Won't I have a good look
at her as I go out! There's your receipt; is it all right?"

"Quite. Now I'll thank you to go out this way."

"And so not see the lady?"

"Precisely so."

And the notary rang; and when the chief clerk made his appearance, he
said:

"Ask the lady to walk in. Good day, M. Robert."

"Well, I see I must give up the chance of seeing her. Don't bear malice,
lawyer. Believe me, if--"

"There--there; that'll do. Good-bye." And the notary shut the door on M.
Charles Robert.

After the lapse of a few moments, the chief clerk introduced the Duchess
de Lucenay, very simply attired, wearing a large shawl, and her features
entirely concealed by a thick veil of black lace, depending from her
watered silk bonnet of the same colour.

Madame de Luce