“If this be true,” she said, “how is it that every one speaks of me as being a great heiress?”

The Princess glanced at her with a contemptuous smile.

“You do not suppose,” she said, “that I have found it necessary to take the whole world into my confidence.”

“You mean,” Jeanne said, “that people don’t know that I am not a great heiress?”

“Certainly not,” the Princess replied, “or we should scarcely be here.”

“The Count de Brensault?” Jeanne asked.

“He does not know, of course,” the Princess answered.  “He is a rich man.  He can afford quite well to marry a girl without a dot.”

Jeanne’s head fell slowly between her hands.  The suddenness of this blow had staggered her.  It was not the loss of her fortune so much which affected her as the other contingencies with which she was surrounded.  She tried to think, and the more she thought the more involved it all seemed.  She looked up at last.

“If my fortune is really gone,” she said, “why do you let people talk about it, and write about me in the papers as though I were still so rich?”

The Princess shrugged her shoulders.

“For your own sake,” she answered.  “It is necessary to find you a husband, is it not, and nowadays one does not find them easily when there is no dot.”

Jeanne felt her cheeks burning.

“I am to be married, then,” she said slowly, “by some one who thinks I have a great deal of money, and who afterwards will be able to turn round and reproach me for having deceived him.”

The Princess laughed.

“Afterwards,” she said, “the man will not be too anxious to let the world know that he has been made a fool of.  If you play your cards properly, the afterwards will come out all right.”

Jeanne rose slowly to her feet.

“I do not think,” she said, “that you have quite understood me.  I should like you to know that nothing would ever induce me to marry any one unless they knew the truth.  I will not go on accepting invitations and visiting people’s houses, many of whom have only asked me because they think that I am very rich.  Every one must know the truth at once.”

“And how, may I ask, do you propose to live?” the Princess asked quietly.

“If there is nothing left at all of my money,” Jeanne said, “I will work.  If it is the worst which comes, I will go back to the convent and teach the children.”

The Princess laughed softly.

“Jeanne,” she said, “you are talking like a positive idiot.  It is because you have had no time to think this thing out.  Remember that after all you are not sailing under any false colours.  You are your father’s daughter, and you are also his heiress.  If the newspapers and gossip have exaggerated the amount of his fortune, that is not your affair.  Be reasonable, little girl,” she added, letting her hand fall upon Jeanne’s.  “Don’t give us all away like this.  Remember that I have made sacrifices for your sake.  I owe more money than I can pay for your dresses, for the carriage, for the house here.  Nothing but your marriage will put us straight again.  You must make up your mind to this.  The Count de Brensault is so much in love with you that he will ask no questions.  You must marry him.”