atter; the mob are probably not particular. Now, what are your
proposals for legislation, and your official introductions?"

"I shall not always be able to make them, headstrong girl!--Listen,
Emilie. It is my intention no longer to compromise my reputation, which
is part of my children's fortune, by recruiting the regiment of dancers
which, spring after spring, you put to rout. You have already been the
cause of many dangerous misunderstandings with certain families. I hope
to make you perceive more truly the difficulties of your position and of
ours. You are two-and-twenty, my dear child, and you ought to have been
married nearly three years since. Your brothers and your two sisters are
richly and happily provided for. But, my dear, the expenses occasioned
by these marriages, and the style of housekeeping you require of your
mother, have made such inroads on our income that I can hardly promise
you a hundred thousand francs as a marriage portion. From this day
forth I shall think only of providing for your mother, who must not be
sacrificed to her children. Emilie, if I were to be taken from my family
Madame de Fontaine could not be left at anybody's mercy, and ought to
enjoy the affluence which I have given her too late as the reward of her
devotion in my misfortunes. You see, my child, that the amount of your
fortune bears no relation to your notions of grandeur. Even that
would be such a sacrifice as I have not hitherto made for either of my
children; but they have generously agreed not to expect in the future
any compensation for the advantage thus given to a too favored child."

"In their position!" said Emilie, with an ironical toss of her head.

"My dear, do not so depreciate those who love you. Only the poor are
generous as a rule; the rich have always excellent reasons for not
handing over twenty thousand francs to a relation. Come, my child, do
not pout, let us talk rationally.--Among the young marrying men have you
noticed Monsieur de Manerville?"

"Oh, he minces his words--he says Zules instead of Jules; he is always
looking at his feet, because he thinks them small, and he gazes at
himself in the glass! Besides, he is fair. I don't like fair men."

"Well, then, Monsieur de Beaudenord?"

"He is not noble! he is ill made and stout. He is dark, it is true.--If
the two gentlemen could agree to combine their fortunes, and the first
would give his name and his figure to the second, who should keep his
dark