“For,” said he, “my worthy friend accepts whatever conditions you may lay down.  The only point now is to sign the preliminaries, and with this object Monsieur Derblay proposes to call at Beaulieu with his sister, Mile.  Suzanne; that is, if you are pleased to authorise him, Madame la Marquise.”

“Oh, certainly.  Let him come by all means.  I shall be glad to see this Cyclops, who is blackening all the valley.  But come, you have, no doubt, brought me some fresh documents in reference to our English lawsuit.”

“Yes, Madame la Marquise, yes,” rejoined Bachelin, with an appealing look.  “We will talk business if you desire it.”

Without asking any questions, Claire and the marquise gave their mother a smile, and left the drawing-room.

“Well, Bachelin, have the English courts decided?  Is the action lost?”

The notary lacked courage to reply in words, but his gesture was sufficient.  The marchioness bit her lips, and a tear glittered for a moment.

“Ah!” said the notary.  “It is a terrible blow for the house of Beaulieu.”

“Terrible indeed,” said the marchioness; “for it implies my son’s and my daughter’s ruin.  Misfortunes seldom come singly,” she resumed.  “I suppose you have some other bad news for me, Bachelin.  Tell me everything.  You have news of the Duc de Bligny?”

“For the last six weeks M. le Duc de Bligny has been in Paris.”

“He is aware of the misfortune that has overtaken us?”

“He knew of it one of the first, Madame la Marquise.”

The marchioness was grieved more cruelly by this than by the money loss; and the notary was thus emboldened to tell her that a gallant friend of his, M. Derblay, whose father had been kind enough to call Maitre Bachelin his friend, had fallen passionately in love with Mdlle. de Beaulieu, and would be the happiest man in the world if he were even allowed to hope.  He advised the marchioness not to say anything at present to her daughter.  Maybe the duke would return to more honourable feelings, and it would always be time enough for Mdlle.  Claire to suffer.”

“You are right; but, at all events, I must inform my son of this blow that strikes him.”

Octave was not surprised, but affectionately taking his mother’s hand, said, “My only concern was for my sister, whose dowry was at stake.  You must leave her the part of your fortune you were reserving for me.  Don’t you think, mother, that our cousin De Bligny’s silence has some connection with the loss of this lawsuit?”

“You are mistaken, child,” cried the marchioness eagerly.  “For the duke——­”

“Oh, fear nothing, mother,” said Octave.  “If Gaston hesitates now that Mdlle. de Beaulieu no longer comes to him with a million in either hand, we are not, I fancy, the sort of folk to seize him by the collar and compel him to keep his promises.”

“Well said, my son,” cried the marchioness.