hter's violent emotion made her realise
more forcibly than ever how deeply and firmly Claire was attached to the
Due de Bligny. So she assured her she had heard nothing fresh about him,
and hoped they might have news from the De Prefonts, who were to arrive
that day from Paris.

"Ah!" interrupted Mdlle. de Beaulieu, "here is Octave coming with
Monsieur Bachelin, the notary." And she went to meet them, looking the
living incarnation of youth in all its grace and vigour.

"You have had good sport, it seems," she said, waylaying her brother,
and feeling the weight of his game-bag.

"Oh, I'll be modest. This game was not killed by me," answered the
marquis; and explained that he had lost his way on the Pont Avesnes
land, and had been rather haughtily accosted by another sportsman, who,
however, as soon as he heard his name, became very polite, and forced
him to accept the contents of his own bag.

Maitre Bachelin immediately informed them that this must have been the
ironmaster himself, whom he had been to see that morning, and all
questions at issue about the boundaries of the estates were as good as
settled.

"For," said he, "my worthy friend accepts whatever conditions you may
lay down. The only point now is to sign the preliminaries, and with this
object Monsieur Derblay proposes to call at Beaulieu with his sister,
Mile. Suzanne; that is, if you are pleased to authorise him, Madame la
Marquise."

"Oh, certainly. Let him come by all means. I shall be glad to see this
Cyclops, who is blackening all the valley. But come, you have, no doubt,
brought me some fresh documents in reference to our English lawsuit."

"Yes, Madame la Marquise, yes," rejoined Bachelin, with an appealing
look. "We will talk business if you desire it."

Without asking any questions, Claire and the marquise gave their mother
a smile, and left the drawing-room.

"Well, Bachelin, have the English courts decided? Is the action lost?"

The notary lacked courage to reply in words, but his gesture was
sufficient. The marchioness bit her lips, and a tear glittered for a
moment.

"Ah!" said the notary. "It is a terrible blow for the house of
Beaulieu."

"Terrible indeed," said the marchioness; "for it implies my son's and my
daughter's ruin. Misfortunes seldom come singly," she resumed. "I
suppose you have some other bad news for me, Bachelin. Tell me
everything. You have news of the Duc de Bligny?"

"For the last six weeks M. le Duc de Blig