n a book, and walked slowly into the group--started, made a slight
apology, and was mooning off, lost in his book again. Then the
baroness, who had eyed him with grim suspicion all the time, said with
well-affected nonchalance, "Doctor, you dropped your purse; we have just
picked it up." And she handed it to him. "Thank you, madame," said he,
and took it quietly without looking at it, put it in his pocket,
and retired, with his soul in his book. They stared comically at one
another, and at this cool hand. "It's no more his than it's mine," said
Jacintha, bluntly. Rose darted after the absorbed student, and took
him captive. "Now, doctor," she cried, "be pleased to come out of the
clouds." And with the word she whipped the purse out of his coat pocket,
and holding it right up before his eye, insisted on his telling her
whether that was his purse or not, money and all. Thus adjured, he
disowned the property mighty coolly, for a retired physician, who had
just pocketed it.

"No, my dear," said he; "and, now I think of it, I have not carried a
purse this twenty years."

The baroness, as a last resource, appealed to his honor whether he had
not left a purse and paper on the knights' bough. The question had to be
explained by Josephine, and then the doctor surprised them all by being
rather affronted--for once in his life.

"Baroness," said he, "I have been your friend and pensioner nearly
twenty years; if by some strange chance money were to come into my
hands, I should not play you a childish trick like this. What! have I
not the right to come to you, and say, 'My old friend, here I bring you
back a very small part of all I owe you?'"

"What geese we are," remarked Rose. "Dear doctor, YOU tell us who it
is."

Dr. Aubertin reflected a single moment; then said he could make a shrewd
guess.

"Who? who? who?" cried the whole party.

"Perrin the notary."

It was the baroness's turn to be surprised; for there was nothing
romantic about Perrin the notary. Aubertin, however, let her know that
he was in private communication with the said Perrin, and this was not
the first friendly act the good notary had done her in secret.

While he was converting the baroness to his view, Josephine and Rose
exchanged a signal, and slipped away round an angle of the chateau.

"Who is it?" said Rose.

"It is some one who has a delicate mind."

"Clearly, and therefore not a notary."

"Rose, dear, might it not be some person who has