as a thing
to laugh at, for it made one fear some grotesque explosion every time
she coughed. Her enormous legs were of the shape which make the Paris
street boy describe such a woman as being built on piles. The widow wore
a green gown trimmed with chinchilla, which looked on her as a splash of
dirty oil would look on a bride's veil. In short, everything about her
harmonized with her last words: "Here I am."

"Madame," said Popinot, "you are suspected of having used some seductive
arts to induce M. d'Espard to hand over to you very considerable sums of
money."

"Of what! of what!" cried she. "Of seductive arts? But, my dear sir, you
are a man to be respected, and, moreover, as a lawyer you ought to have
some good sense. Look at me! Tell me if I am likely to seduce any one.
I cannot tie my own shoes, nor even stoop. For these twenty years past,
the Lord be praised, I have not dared to put on a pair of stays under
pain of sudden death. I was as thin as an asparagus stalk when I was
seventeen, and pretty too--I may say so now. So I married Jeanrenaud, a
good fellow, and headman on the salt-barges. I had my boy, who is a fine
young man; he is my pride, and it is not holding myself cheap to say
he is my best piece of work. My little Jeanrenaud was a soldier who did
Napoleon credit, and who served in the Imperial Guard. But, alas! at the
death of my old man, who was drowned, times changed for the worse. I had
the smallpox. I was kept two years in my room without stirring, and I
came out of it the size you see me, hideous for ever, and as wretched as
could be. These are my seductive arts."

"But what, then, can the reasons be that have induced M. d'Espard to
give you sums----"

"Hugious sums, monsieur, say the word; I do not mind. But as to his
reasons, I am not at liberty to explain them."

"You are wrong. At this moment, his family, very naturally alarmed, are
about to bring an action----"

"Heavens above us!" said the good woman, starting up. "Is it possible
that he should be worried on my account? That king of men, a man that
has not his match! Rather than he should have the smallest trouble, or
hair less on his head I could almost say, we would return every sou,
monsieur. Write that down on your papers. Heaven above us! I will go at
once and tell Jeanrenaud what is going on! A pretty thing indeed!"

And the little old woman went out, rolled herself downstairs, and
disappeared.

"That one tells no lies," said Po