nd, after all, she
will be a rich widow some day or other! And a child would secure her the
life-interest in the Master of La Baudraye's fortune--"

"Why, it is quite an act of virtue to make love to her," said Lousteau,
rolling himself up in the bed-clothes, "and to-morrow, with your
help--yes, to-morrow, I--well, good-night."

On the following day, Madame de la Baudraye, to whom her husband had six
months since given a pair of horses, which he also used in the fields,
and an old carriage that rattled on the road, decided that she would
take Bianchon so far on his way as Cosne, where he would get into the
Lyons diligence as it passed through. She also took her mother and
Lousteau, but she intended to drop her mother at La Baudraye, to go on
to Cosne with the two Parisians, and return alone with Etienne. She
was elegantly dressed, as the journalist at once perceived--bronze kid
boots, gray silk stockings, a muslin dress, a green silk scarf with
shaded fringe at the ends, and a pretty black lace bonnet with flowers
in it. As to Lousteau, the wretch had assumed his war-paint--patent
leather boots, trousers of English kerseymere with pleats in front,
a very open waistcoat showing a particularly fine shirt and the black
brocade waterfall of his handsome cravat, and a very thin, very short
black riding-coat.

Monsieur de Clagny and Monsieur Gravier looked at each other, feeling
rather silly as they beheld the two Parisians in the carriage, while
they, like two simpletons, were left standing at the foot of the steps.
Monsieur de la Baudraye, who stood at the top waving his little hand in
a little farewell to the doctor, could not forbear from smiling as he
heard Monsieur de Clagny say to Monsieur Gravier:

"You should have escorted them on horseback."

At this juncture, Gatien, riding Monsieur de la Baudraye's quiet little
mare, came out of the side road from the stables and joined the party in
the chaise.

"Ah, good," said the Receiver-General, "the boy has mounted guard."

"What a bore!" cried Dinah as she saw Gatien. "In thirteen years--for I
have been married nearly thirteen years--I have never had three hours'
liberty.

"Married, madame?" said the journalist with a smile. "You remind me of
a saying of Michaud's--he was so witty! He was setting out for the Holy
Land, and his friends were remonstrating with him, urging his age,
and the perils of such an expedition. 'And then,' said one, 'you are
married.'--'Marri