Her agitation expressed itself again in little dartings to and fro.  “I went begging to them, as you might say.  I took all their snubs—­and oh! so fine some of them were!—­more delicate than the point of a needle!  I took them because I could see just how I should pay them back.  I needn’t explain to you how that would be, because you couldn’t understand.  It would be out of the question for an American.”

“I don’t think we are good at returning snubs, madame.  That’s a fact.”

“You’re not good at anything but making money; and you make that blatantly, as if you were the first people in the world to do it.  Why, France and England could buy and sell you, and most of you don’t know it.  Mais, n’importe.  I went begging to them, as I’ve told you.  At first they wouldn’t hear of her at any price—­didn’t want an American.  That was bluff, to get a bigger dot.  I had counted on it in advance.  I knew well enough that they’d take a Hottentot if there was money enough.  For the matter of that, Hottentot and American are much the same to them.  But I made it bluff for bluff.  Oh, I’m sharp.  I manage all my own affairs in America—­with advice.  I’ve speculated a little in your markets quite successfully.  I know how I stand to within a few thousand dollars of your money.  I offered half a million of francs.  They laughed at it.  I knew they would, but it’s as much as they’d get with a French girl.  I went to a million—­to a million and a half—­to two millions.  At two millions—­that would be—­let me see—­five into twenty makes four—­about four hundred thousand dollars of your money—­they gave in.  Yes, they gave in.  I expected them to hold out for it, and they did.  But at that figure they made all the concessions and gave in.”

“And did he give in?” Davenant asked, with naive curiosity.

“Oh, I’d made sure of him beforehand.  He and I understood each other perfectly.  He would have let it go at a million and a half.  He was next door to being in love with her besides.  All he wanted was to be well established, poor boy!  But I meant to go up to two millions, anyhow.  I could afford it.”

“Four hundred thousand dollars,” Davenant said, with an idea that he might convey a hint to her, “would be practically the sum—­”

“I could afford it,” she went on, “because of those ridiculous copper-mines—­the Hamlet and Tecla.  I wasn’t rich before that.  My dot was small.  No Guion I ever heard of was able to save money.  My father was no exception.”

“You are in the Hamlet and Tecla!” Davenant’s blue eyes were wide open.  He was on his own ground.  The history of the Hamlet and Tecla Mines had been in his own lifetime a fairy-tale come true.

Madame de Melcourt nodded proudly.  “My father had bought nearly two thousand shares when they were down to next to nothing.  They came to me when he died.  It was mere waste paper for years and years.  Then all of a sudden—­pouff!—­they began to go up and up—­and I sold them when they were near a thousand.  I could have afforded the two millions of francs—­and I promised to settle Melcourt-le-Danois on them into the bargain, when I—­if I ever should—­But my niece wouldn’t take him—­simply—­would—­not.  Ah,” she cried, in a strangled voice, “c’etait trop fort!”