nd cities those who do not go to mass stand about in the
square or market-place. Business is talked over. In Nemours the hour of
church service was a weekly exchange, to which the owners of property
scattered over a radius of some miles resorted.

"Well, how would you have prevented it?" said the post master to Goupil
in reply to his remark.

"I should have made myself as important to him as the air he breathes.
But from the very first you failed to get hold of him. The inheritance
of a rich uncle should be watched as carefully as a pretty woman--for
want of proper care they'll both escape you. If Madame Dionis were here
she could tell you how true that comparison is."

"But Monsieur Bongrand has just told me there is nothing to worry
about," said Massin.

"Oh! there are plenty of ways of saying that!" cried Goupil, laughing.
"I would like to have heard your sly justice of the peace say it. If
there is nothing to be done, if he, being intimate with your uncle,
knows that all is lost, the proper thing for him to say to you is,
'Don't be worried.'"

As Goupil spoke, a satirical smile overspread his face, and gave such
meaning to his words that the other heirs began to feel that Massin
had let Bongrand deceive him. The tax-collector, a fat little man, as
insignificant as a tax-collector should be, and as much of a cipher as a
clever woman could wish, hereupon annihilated his co-heir, Massin, with
the words:--"Didn't I tell you so?"

Tricky people always attribute trickiness to others. Massin therefore
looked askance at Monsieur Bongrand, the justice of the peace, who was
at that moment talking near the door of the church with the Marquis du
Rouvre, a former client.

"If I were sure of it!" he said.

"You could neutralize the protection he is now giving to the Marquis
du Rouvre, who is threatened with arrest. Don't you see how Bongrand
is sprinkling him with advice?" said Goupil, slipping an idea of
retaliation into Massin's mind. "But you had better go easy with your
chief; he's a clever old fellow; he might use his influence with your
uncle and persuade him not to leave everything to the church."

"Pooh! we sha'n't die of it," said Minoret-Levrault, opening his
enormous snuff-box.

"You won't live of it, either," said Goupil, making the two women
tremble. More quick-witted than their husbands, they saw the privations
this loss of inheritance (so long counted on for many comforts) would
be to them. "However,"