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"Hum! M. de Thaller's creditors might not think that mode ofproceeding entirely regular.""Then they might sue," said M. Chapelain, laughing. "People canalways sue; only when the papers are well drawn -"Mlle. Gilberte stood dismayed. She thought of Marius de Tregarsgiving up his mother's fortune to pay his father's debts.

"What would he say," thought she, "should he hear such opinions!"The cashier of the Mutual Credit resumed:

"Surely I blame every species of fraud. But I pretend, and Imaintain, that a man who has worked twenty years to give a handsomedowry to his daughter has the right to demand of his son-in-lawcertain conservative measures to guarantee the money, which, afterall, is his own, and which is to benefit no one but his own family."This declaration closed the evening. It was getting late. TheSaturday guests put on their overcoats; and, as they were walkinghome,"Can you understand that little Gilberte?" said Mme. Desciavettes.

"I'd like to see a daughter of mine have such fancies! But herpoor mother is so weak!""Yes; but friend Favoral is firm enough for both," interrupted M.

Desormeaux; "and it is more than probable that at this very momenthe is correcting his daughter of the sin of sloth."Well, not at all. Extremely angry as M. Favoral must have been,neither that evening, nor the next day, did he make the remotestallusion to what had taken place.

The following Monday only, before leaving for his office, castingupon his wife and daughter one of his ugliest looks:

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"M. Costeclar owes us a visit," said he; "and it is possible thathe may call in my absence. I wish him to be admitted; and I forbidyou to go out, so that you can have no pretext to refuse him thedoor. I presume there will not be found in my house any one boldenough to ill receive a man whom I like, and whom I have selectedfor my son-in law."But was it probable, was it even possible, that M. Costeclar couldventure upon such a step after Mlle. Gilberte's treatment of him onthe previous Saturday evening?

"No, a thousand times no!" affirmed Maxence to his mother and sister.

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"So you may rest easy."Indeed they tried to be, until that very afternoon the sound ofrapidly-rolling wheels attracted Mme. Favoral to the window. Acoupe, drawn by two gray horses, had just stopped at the door.

"It must be he," she said to her daughter.

Mlle. Gilberte had turned slightly pale.

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"There is no help for it, mother," she said: "You must receive him.""And you?"I shall remain in my room.""Do you suppose he won't ask for you?""You will answer that I am unwell. He will understand.""But your father, unhappy child, your father?""I do not acknowledge to my father the right of disposing of myperson against my wishes. I detest that man to whom he wishes tomarry me. Would you like to see me his wife, to know me given upto the most intolerable torture? No, there is no violence in theworld that will ever wring my consent from me. So, mother dear,do what I ask you. My father can say what he pleases: I take thewhole responsibility upon myself."There was no time to argue: the bell rang. Mlle. Gilberte hadbarely time to escape through one of the doors of the parlor,whilst M. Costeclar was entering at the other.

If he did have enough perspicacity to guess what had just takenplace, he did not in any way show it. He sat down; and it wasonly after conversing for a few moments upon indifferent subjects,that he asked how Mlle. Gilberte was.

"She is somewhat - unwell," stammered Mme. Favoral.

He did not appear surprised; only,"Our dear Favoral," he said, "will be still more pained than I amwhen he hears of this mishap."Better than any other mother, Mme. Favoral must have understood andapproved Mlle. Gilberte's invincible repugnance. To her also, whenshe was young, her father had come one day, and said, "I havediscovered a husband for you." She had accepted him blindly. Bruisedand wounded by daily outrages, she had sought refuge in marriage asin a haven of safety.

And since, hardly a day had elapsed that she had not thought itwould have been better for her to have died rather then to haveriveted to her neck those fetters that death alone can remove. Shethought, therefore, that her daughter was perfectly right. And yettwenty years of slavery had so weakened the springs of her energy,that under the glance of Costeclar, threatening her with herhusband's name, she felt embarrassed, and could scarcely stammersome timid excuses. And she allowed him to prolong his visit, andconsequently her torment, for over an half an hour; then, when hehad gone,"He and your father understand each other," said she to her daughter,"that is but too evident. What is the use of struggling?"A fugitive blush colored the pale cheeks of Mlle. Gilberte. Forthe past forty-eight hours she had been exhausting herself, seekingan issue to an impossible situation; and she had accustomed her mindto the worst eventualities.