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amount to more than two hundred thousand; she has her house and

Prebaudet and fifteen thousand francs a year. A word to my friend the



Comte de Fontaine, and I should be mayor of Alencon to-morrow, and

deputy. Then, once seated on the Right benches, we shall reach the



peerage, shouting, 'Cloture!' 'Ordre!'"

As soon as she reached home Madame Granson had a livelyargument with



her son, who could not be made to see the connection which existed

between his love and his political opinions. It was the first quarrel



that had ever troubled that poor household.

CHAPTER VI



FINAL DISAPPOINTMENT AND ITS FIRST RESULT

The next day, Mademoiselle Cormon, packed into the old carriole with



Josette, and looking like a pyramid on a vast sea of parcels, drove up

the rue Saint-Blaise on her way to Prebaudet, where she was overtaken



by an event which hurried on her marriage,--an event entirely unlooked

for by either Madame Granson, du Bousquier, Monsieur de Valois, or



Mademoiselle Cormon himself. Chance is the greatest of all artificers.

The day after her arrival at Prebaudet, she was innocently employed,



about eight o'clock in the morning, in listening, as she breakfasted,

to the various reports of her keeper and her gardener, when Jacquelin



made a violent irruption into the dining-room.

"Mademoiselle," he cried, out of breath, "Monsieur l'abbe sends you an



express, the son of Mere Grosmort, with a letter. The lad left Alencon

before daylight, and he has just arrived; he ran like Penelope! Can't



I give him a glass of wine?"

"What can have happened, Josette? Do you think my uncle can be--"



"He couldn't write if he were," said Josette, guessing her mistress's

fears.



"Quick! quick!" cried Mademoiselle Cormon, as soon as she had read the

first lines. "Tell Jacquelin to harness Penelope-- Get ready, Josette;



pack up everything in half an hour. We must go back to town--"

"Jacquelin!" called Josette, excited by the sentiment she saw on her



mistress's face.

Jacquelin, informed by Josette, came in to say,--



"But, mademoiselle, Penelope is eating her oats."

"What does that signify? I must start at once."



"But, mademoiselle, it is going to rain."

"Then we shall get wet."



"The house is on fire!" muttered Josette, piqued at the silence her

mistress kept as to the contents of the letter, which she read and



reread.

"Finish your coffee, at any rate, mademoiselle; don't excite your



blood; just see how red you are."

"Am I red, Josette?" she said, going to a mirror, from which the



quicksilver was peeling, and which presented her features to her

upside down.



"Good heavens!" thought Mademoiselle Cormon, "suppose I should look

ugly! Come, Josette; come, my dear, dress me at once; I want to be



ready before Jacquelin has harnessed Penelope. If you can't pack my

things in time, I will leave them here rather than lose a single



minute."

If you have thoroughly comprehended the positive monomania to which



the desire of marriage had brought Mademoiselle Cormon, you will share

her emotion. The worthy uncle announced in this sudden missive that



Monsieur de Troisville, of the Russian army during the Emigration,

grandson of one of his best friends, was desirous of retiring to



Alencon, and asked his, the abbe's hospitality, on the ground of his

friendship for his grandfather, the Vicomte de Troisville. The old



abbe, alarmed at the responsibility, entreated his niece to return

instantly and help him to receive this guest, and do the honors of the



house; for the viscount's letter had been delayed, and he might

descend upon his shoulders that very night.



After reading this missive could there be a question of the demands of

Prebaudet? The keeper and the gardener, witnesses to Mademoiselle



Cormon's excitement, stood aside and awaited her orders. But when, as

she was about to leave the room, they stopped her to ask for



instructions, for the first time in her life the despotic old maid,

who saw to everything at Prebaudet with her own eyes, said, to their



stupefaction, "Do what you like." This from a mistress who carried her

administration to the point of counting her fruits, and marking them



so as to order their consumption according to the number and condition

of each!



"I believe I'm dreaming," thought Josette, as she saw her mistress

flying down the staircase like an elephant to which God has given



wings.




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