you. As a woman I had to explain to you, there being
lots of ideas about what a woman should do and what she shouldn't do;
but there's nothing at all for you to explain, and Mere Langlois and a
lot of others would think I'm vain enough now without your compliments.
I'm a neighbour if you like, and I offer you a loan. Will you take
it--that's all?"

He held out his hand in silence and took the paper from her. Putting his
head a little on one side, he read it. At first he seemed hardly to get
the formal language clear in his mind; however, or maybe his mind was
still away in that abstraction into which he had whisked it when he
began his reply to her fine offer; but he read it out aloud, first
quickly, then very slowly, and he looked at the signature with a deeply
meditative air.

"Virginie Poucette--that's a good name," he remarked; "and also good for
two thousand dollars!" He paused to smile contentedly over his own joke.
"And good for a great deal more than that too," he added with a nod.

"Yes, ten times as much as that," she responded quickly, her eyes fixed
on his face. She scarcely knew herself what she was thinking when
she said it; but most people who read this history will think she was
hinting that her assets might be united with his, and so enable him to
wipe out his liabilities and do a good deal more besides. Yet, how could
that be, since Carmen Dolores was still his wife if she was alive; and
also they both were Catholics, and Catholics did not recognize divorce!

Truth is, Virginie Poucette's mind did not define her feelings at all
clearly, or express exactly what she wanted. Her actions said one thing
certainly; but if the question had been put to her, whether she was
doing this thing because of a wish to take the place of Carmen Dolores
in Jean Jacques' life she would have said no at once. She had not come
to that--yet. She was simply moved by a sentiment of pity for Jean
Jacques, and as she had no child, or husband, or sister, or brother, or
father, or mother, but only relatives who tried to impose upon her, she
needed an objective for the emotions of her nature, for the overflow of
her unused affection and her unsatisfied maternal spirit. Here, then,
was the most obvious opportunity--a man in trouble who had not deserved
the bitter bad luck which had come to him. Even old Mere Langlois in the
market-place at Vilray had admitted that, and had said the same later on
in Virginie's home.

For an insta