aps be
prudent, wise, noble even to pay.

The unfortunate word "pay" brought Madame d'Arlange to her feet in the
fiercest attitude.

"Pay!" she screamed. "In order that these scoundrels may persist in
their obduracy! Encourage them by a culpable weakness! Never! Besides to
pay one must have money! and I have none!"

"Why!" said M. Daburon, "it amounts to but eighty-seven francs!"

"And is that nothing?" asked the marchioness; "you talk very foolishly,
my dear sir. It is easy to see that you have money; your ancestors were
people of no rank; and the revolution passed a hundred feet above their
heads. Who can tell whether they may not have been the gainers by it? It
took all from the d'Arlanges. What will they do to me, if I do not pay?"

"Well, madame, they can do many things; almost ruin you, in costs. They
may seize your furniture."

"Alas!" cried the old lady, "the revolution is not ended yet. We shall
all be swallowed up by it, my poor Daburon! Ah! you are happy, you who
belong to the people! I see plainly that I must pay this man without
delay, and it is frightfully sad for me, for I have nothing, and am
forced to make such sacrifices for the sake of my grandchild!"

This statement surprised the magistrate so strongly that involuntarily
he repeated half-aloud, "Sacrifices?"

"Certainly!" resumed Madame d'Arlange. "Without her, would I have to
live as I am doing, refusing myself everything to make both ends meet?
Not a bit of it! I would invest my fortune in a life annuity. But I
know, thank heaven, the duties of a mother; and I economise all I can
for my little Claire."

This devotion appeared so admirable to M. Daburon, that he could not
utter a word.

"Ah! I am terribly anxious about this dear child," continued the
marchioness. "I confess M. Daburon, it makes me giddy when I wonder how
I am to marry her."

The magistrate reddened with pleasure. At last his opportunity had
arrived; he must take advantage of it at once.

"It seems to me," stammered he, "that to find Mademoiselle Claire a
husband ought not to be difficult."

"Unfortunately, it is. She is pretty enough, I admit, although rather
thin, but, now-a-days, beauty goes for nothing. Men are so mercenary
they think only of money. I do not know of one who has the manhood to
take a d'Arlange with her bright eyes for a dowry."

"I believe that you exaggerate," remarked M. Daburon, timidly.

"By no means. Trust to my experience which is far grea