"Well," said Achilles to Nestor, as the cabriolet rolled away, "you
have been truly patriarchal to-night. The fact is, those young people
would certainly have ruined themselves."
"I felt
anxious about their future," replied Mathias, keeping silent
as to the real motives of his proposition.
At this moment the two notaries were like a pair of actors arm in arm
behind the stage on which they have played a scene of
hatred and
provocation.
"But," said Solonet, thinking of his rights as notary, "isn't it my
place to buy that land you mentioned? The money is part of our dowry."
"How can you put property bought in the name of Mademoiselle
Evangelista into the
creation of an
entail by the Comte de
Manerville?" replied Mathias.
"We shall have to ask the
chancellor about that," said Solonet.
"But I am the notary of the
seller as well as of the buyer of that
land," said Mathias. "Besides, Monsieur de Manerville can buy in his
own name. At the time of
payment we can make mention of the fact that
the dowry funds are put into it."
"You've an answer for everything, old man," said Solonet, laughing.
"You were really surpassing to-night; you beat us squarely."
"For an old fellow who didn't expect your batteries of grape-shot, I
did pretty well, didn't I?"
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Solonet.
The
odious struggle in which the material
welfare of a family had been
so perilously near
destruction was to the two notaries nothing more
than a matter of
professional polemics.
"I haven't been forty years in
harness for nothing," remarked Mathias.
"Look here, Solonet," he added, "I'm a good fellow; you shall help in
drawing the deeds for the sale of those lands."
"Thanks, my dear Mathias. I'll serve you in return on the very first
occasion."
While the two notaries were
peacefully returning
homeward, with no
other
sensations than a little throaty
warmth, Paul and Madame
Evangelista were left a prey to the
nervous trepidation, the quivering
of the flesh and brain which excitable natures pass through after a
scene in which their interests and their feelings have been violently
shaken. In Madame Evangelista these last mutterings of the storm were
overshadowed by a terrible
reflection, a lurid gleam which she wanted,
at any cost, to dispel.
"Has Maitre Mathias destroyed in a few minutes the work I have been
doing for six months?" she asked herself. "Was he withdrawing Paul
from my influence by filling his mind with
suspicion during their
secret
conference in the next room?"
She was
standing absorbed in these thoughts before the
fireplace, her
elbow resting on the
marble mantel-shelf. When the porte-cochere
closed behind the
carriage of the two notaries, she turned to her
future son-in-law,
impatient to solve her doubts.
"This has been the most terrible day of my life," cried Paul,
overjoyed to see all difficulties
vanish. "I know no one so downright
in speech as that old Mathias. May God hear him, and make me peer of
France! Dear Natalie, I desire this for your sake more than for my
own. You are my
ambition; I live only in you."
Hearing this speech uttered in the accents of the heart, and noting,
more especially, the limpid azure of Paul's eyes, whose glance
betrayed no thought of double meaning, Madame Evangelista's
satisfaction was complete. She regretted the sharp language with which
she had spurred him, and in the joy of success she
resolved to
reassure him as to the future. Calming her
countenance, and giving to
her eyes that expression of tender friendship which made her so
attractive, she smiled and answered:--
"I can say as much to you. Perhaps, dear Paul, my Spanish nature has
led me farther than my heart desired. Be what you are,--kind as God
himself,--and do not be angry with me for a few hasty words. Shake
hands."
Paul was abashed; he fancied himself to blame, and he kissed Madame
Evangelista.
"Dear Paul," she said with much
emotion, "why could not those two
sharks have settled this matter without dragging us into it, since it
was so easy to settle?"
"In that case I should not have known how grand and
generous you can
be," replied Paul.
"Indeed she is, Paul," cried Natalie, pressing his hand.
"We have still a few little matters to settle, my dear son," said
Madame Evangelista. "My daughter and I are above the foolish vanities
to which so many persons cling. Natalie does not need my diamonds, but
I am glad to give them to her."
"Ah! my dear mother, do you suppose that I will accept them?"
"Yes, my child; they are one of the conditions of the contract."
"I will not allow it; I will not marry at all," cried Natalie,
vehemently. "Keep those jewels which my father took such pride in
collecting for you. How could Monsieur Paul exact--"
"Hush, my dear," said her mother, whose eyes now filled with tears.
"My
ignorance of business compels me to a greater sacrifice than
that."
"What sacrifice?"
"I must sell my house in order to pay the money that I owe to you."
"What money can you possibly owe to me?" she said; "to me, who owe you
life! If my marriage costs you the slightest sacrifice, I will not
marry."
"Child!"
"Dear Natalie, try to understand that neither I, nor your mother, nor
you yourself, require these sacrifices, but our children."
"Suppose I do not marry at all?"
"Do you not love me?" said Paul, tenderly.
"Come, come, my silly child; do you imagine that a contract is like a
house of cards which you can blow down at will? Dear little ignoramus,
you don't know what trouble we have had to found an
entail for the
benefit of your
eldest son. Don't cast us back into the
discussions
from which we have just escaped."
"Why do you wish to ruin my mother?" said Natalie, looking at Paul.
"Why are you so rich?" he replied, smiling.
"Don't quarrel, my children, you are not yet married," said Madame
Evangelista. "Paul," she continued, "you are not to give either
corbeille, or jewels, or trousseau. Natalie has everything in
profusion. Lay by the money you would
otherwise put into wedding
presents. I know nothing more stupidly bourgeois and
commonplace than
to spend a hundred thousand francs on a corbeille, when five thousand
a year given to a young woman saves her much
anxiety and lasts her
lifetime. Besides, the money for a corbeille is needed to decorate
your house in Paris. We will return to Lanstrac in the spring; for
Solonet is to settle my debts during the winter."
"All is for the best," cried Paul, at the
summit of happiness.
"So I shall see Paris!" cried Natalie, in a tone that would justly
have alarmed de Marsay.
"If we decide upon this plan," said Paul, "I'll write to de Marsay and
get him to take a box for me at the Bouffons and also at the Italian
opera."
"You are very kind; I should never have dared to ask for it," said
Natalie. "Marriage is a very
agreeableinstitution if it gives
husbands a
talent for divining the wishes of their wives."
"It is nothing else," replied Paul. "But see how late it is; I ought
to go."
"Why leave so soon to-night?" said Madame Evangelista, employing those
coaxing ways to which men are so sensitive.
Though all this passed on the best of terms, and according to the laws