lready! Time goes like a shadow in pleasant company,"
said the man of law, who had talked on end for the past hour.

He looked for his hat, planted himself before the fire, with a
suppressed hiccough; and, without heeding the Marquise's withering
glances, spoke once more to his impatient client:

"To sum up, my lord Marquis. Business before all things. To-morrow,
then, we must subpoena your brother; we will proceed to make out the
inventory, and faith, after that----"

So ill had the lawyer understood his instructions, that his impression
was the exact opposite to the one intended. It was a delicate matter,
and Vandenesse, in spite of himself, began to put the thick-headed
notary right. The discussion which followed took up a certain amount of
time.

"Listen," the diplomatist said at last at a sign from the lady, "You are
puzzling my brains; come back to-morrow, and if the writ is not issued
by noon to-morrow, the days of grace will expire, and then--"

As he spoke, a carriage entered the courtyard. The poor woman turned
sharply away at the sound to hide the tears in her eyes. The Marquis
rang to give the servant orders to say that he was not at home; but
before the footman could answer the bell, the lady's husband reappeared.
He had returned unexpectedly from the Gaiete, and held both children by
the hand. The little girl's eyes were red; the boy was fretful and very
cross.

"What can have happened?" asked the Marquise.

"I will tell you by and by," said the General, and catching a glimpse
through an open door of newspapers on the table in the adjoining
sitting-room, he went off. The Marquise, at the end of her patience,
flung herself down on the sofa in desperation. The notary, thinking it
incumbent upon him to be amiable with the children, spoke to the little
boy in an insinuating tone:

"Well, my little man, and what is there on at the theatre?"

"_The Valley of the Torrent_," said Gustave sulkily.

"Upon my word and honor," declared the notary, "authors nowadays are
half crazy. _The Valley of the Torrent_! Why not the Torrent of the
Valley? It is conceivable that a valley might be without a torrent in
it; now if they had said the Torrent of the Valley, that would have
been something clear, something precise, something definite and
comprehensible. But never mind that. Now, how is the drama to take place
in a torrent and in a valley? You will tell me that in these days the
principal attraction lies in the