his marriage.
Sauvresy and he had discussed the subject, and if the matter was
not as ripe as he had represented, there was at least some prospect
of such an event. Sauvresy had proposed it in his anxiety to
complete his work of restoring Hector to fortune and society.

One evening, about a month before the events just narrated, he had
led Hector into the library, saying:

"Give me your ear for a quarter of an hour, and don't answer me
hastily. What I am going to propose to you deserves serious
reflection."

"Well, I can be serious when it is necessary."

"Let's begin with your debts. Their payment is not yet completed,
but enough has been done to enable us to foresee the end. It is
certain that you will have, after all debts are paid, from three
to four hundred thousand francs."

Hector had never, in his wildest hopes, expected such success.

"Why, I'm going to be rich," exclaimed he joyously.

"No, not rich, but quite above want. There is, too, a mode in
which you can regain your lost position."

"A mode? what?"

Sauvresy paused a moment, and looked steadily at his friend.

"You must marry," said he at last.

This seemed to surprise Hector, but not disagreeably.

"I, marry? It's easier to give that advice than to follow it."

"Pardon me--you ought to know that I do not speak rashly. What
would you say to a young girl of good family, pretty, well brought
up, so charming that, excepting my own wife, I know of no one more
attractive, and who would bring with her a dowry of a million?"

"Ah, my friend, I should say that I adore her! And do you know
such an angel?"

"Yes, and you too, for the angel is Mademoiselle Laurence Courtois."

Hector's radiant face overclouded at this name, and he made a
discouraged gesture.

"Never," said he. "That stiff and obstinate old merchant, Monsieur
Courtois, would never consent to give his daughter to a man who has
been fool enough to waste his fortune."

Sauvresy shrugged his shoulders.

"Now, there's what it is to have eyes, and not see. Know that this
Courtois, whom you think so obstinate, is really the most romantic
of men, and an ambitious old fellow to boot. It would seem to him
a grand good speculation to give his daughter to the Count Hector de
Tremorel, cousin of the Duke of Samblemeuse, the relative of the
Commarins, even though you hadn't a sou. What wouldn't he give to
have the delicious pleasure of saying, Monsieur the Count, my
son-in-law; or my dau