ance, lawsuits--all sorts of
desirable or formidable contingencies. The father, after a few moments
of silence, muttered:

"What on earth can it mean?"

Mme. Rosemilly began to laugh.

"Why, a legacy, of course. I am sure of it. I bring good luck."

But they did not expect the death of any one who might leave them
anything.

Mme. Roland, who had a good memory for relationships, began to think
over all their connections on her husband's side and on her own, to
trace up pedigrees and the ramifications of cousin-ship.

Before even taking off her bonnet she said:

"I say, father" (she called her husband "father" at home, and sometimes
"Monsieur Roland" before strangers), "tell me, do you remember who it
was that Joseph Lebru married for the second time?"

"Yes--a little girl named Dumenil, a stationer's daughter."

"Had they any children?"

"I should think so! four or five at least."

"Not from that quarter, then."

She was quite eager already in her search; she caught at the hope of
some added ease dropping from the sky. But Pierre, who was very fond of
his mother, who knew her to be somewhat visionary and feared she might
be disappointed, a little grieved, a little saddened if the news were
bad instead of good, checked her:

"Do not get excited, mother; there is no rich American uncle. For my
part, I should sooner fancy that it is about a marriage for Jean."

Every one was surprised at the suggestion, and Jean was a little ruffled
by his brother's having spoken of it before Mme. Rosemilly.

"And why for me rather than for you? The hypothesis is very disputable.
You are the elder; you, therefore, would be the first to be thought of.
Besides, I do not wish to marry."

Pierre smiled sneeringly:

"Are you in love, then?"

And the other, much put out, retorted: "Is it necessary that a man
should be in love because he does not care to marry yet?"

"Ah, there you are! That 'yet' sets it right; you are waiting."

"Granted that I am waiting, if you will have it so."

But old Roland, who had been listening and cogitating, suddenly hit upon
the most probable solution.

"Bless me! what fools we are to be racking our brains. Maitre Lecanu is
our very good friend; he knows that Pierre is looking out for a medical
partnership and Jean for a lawyer's office, and he has found something
to suit one of you."

This was so obvious and likely that every one accepted it.

"Dinner is ready," said the maid. And they