“Ah! my dear cousin,” he said, “you are ruined.  I told you how it would be; but you would not listen to me.  Your father has an insatiable appetite.  He has swallowed your woods at a mouthful.  Your family guardian, Monsieur Conyncks, is just now absent in Amsterdam, and Claes has seized the opportunity to strike the blow.  It is all wrong.  I have written to Monsieur Conyncks, but he will get here too late; everything will be squandered.  You will be obliged to sue your father.  The suit can’t be long, but it will be dishonorable.  Monsieur Conyncks has no alternative but to institute proceedings; the law requires it.  This is the result of your obstinacy.  Do you now see my prudence, and how devoted I was to your interests?”

“I bring you some good news, mademoiselle,” said young de Solis in his gentle voice.  “Gabriel has been admitted to the Ecole Polytechnique.  The difficulties that seemed in the way have all been removed.”

Marguerite thanked him with a smile as she said:—­

“My savings will now come in play!  Martha, we must begin to-morrow on Gabriel’s outfit.  My poor Felicie, we shall have to work hard,” she added, kissing her sister’s forehead.

“To-morrow you shall have him at home, to remain ten days,” said Emmanuel; “he must be in Paris by the fifteenth of November.”

“My cousin Gabriel has done a sensible thing,” said the lawyer, eyeing the professor from head to foot; “for he will have to make his own way.  But, my dear cousin, the question now is how to save the honor of the family:  will you listen to what I say this time?”

“No,” she said, “not if it relates to marriage.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I?—­nothing.”

“But you are of age.”

“I shall be in a few days.  Have you any course to suggest to me,” she added, “which will reconcile our interests with the duty we owe to our father and to the honor of the family?”

“My dear cousin, nothing can be done till your uncle arrives.  When he does, I will call again.”

“Adieu, monsieur,” said Marguerite.

“The poorer she is the more airs she gives herself,” thought the notary.  “Adieu, mademoiselle,” he said aloud.  “Monsieur, my respects to you”; and he went away, paying no attention to Felicie or Martha.

“I have been studying the Code for the last two days, and I have consulted an experienced old lawyer, a friend of my uncle,” said Emmanuel, in a hesitating voice.  “If you will allow me, I will go to Amsterdam to-morrow and see Monsieur Conyncks.  Listen, dear Marguerite—­”

He uttered her name for the first time; she thanked him with a smile and a tearful glance, and made a gentle inclination of her head.  He paused, looking at Felicie and Martha.

“Speak before my sister,” said Marguerite.  “She is so docile and courageous that she does not need this discussion to make her resigned to our life of toil and privation; but it is best that she should see for herself how necessary courage is to us.”