of me. That is the history of
my marriage. As to the history of my fortune, it can be told in a few
words. There were indeed millions in those wide lands of Colorado; they
discovered there abundant mines of silver, and from those mines we draw
every year an income which is beyond reason, but we have agreed--my
husband, my sister, and myself--to give a very large share of this
income to the poor. You see, Monsieur le Cure, it is because we have
known very hard times that you will always find us ready to help those
who are, as we have been ourselves, involved in the difficulties and
sorrows of life. And now, Monsieur Jean, will you forgive me this long
discourse, and offer me a little of that cream, which looks so very
good?"

This cream was Pauline's custard, and while Jean was serving Mrs. Scott:

"I have not yet finished," she continued. "You ought to know what gave
rise to these extravagant stories. A year ago, when we settled in Paris,
we considered it our duty on our arrival to give a certain sum to the
poor. Who was it spoke of that? None of us, certainly, but the thing was
told in a newspaper, with the amount. Immediately two young reporters
hastened to subject Mr. Scott to a little examination on his past
history; they wished to give a sketch of our career in the--what do you
call them?--society papers. Mr. Scott is sometimes a little hasty; he
was so on this occasion, and dismissed these gentlemen rather brusquely,
without telling them anything. So, as they did not know our real
history, they invented one, and certainly displayed a very lively
imagination. First they related how I had begged in the snow in New
York; the next day appeared a still more sensational article, which made
me a rider in a circus in Philadelphia. You have some very funny papers
in France; so have we in America, for the matter of that."

During the last five minutes, Pauline had been making desperate signs to
the Cure, who persisted in not understanding them, till at last the poor
woman, calling up all her courage, said:

"Monsieur le Cure, it is a quarter past seven."

"A quarter past seven! Ladies, I must beg you to excuse me. This evening
I have the special service for the month of Mary."

"The month of Mary? And will the service begin directly?"

"Yes, directly."

"And when does our train start for Paris?"

"At half past nine," replied Jean.

"Susie, can we not go to church first?"

"Yes, we will go," replied Mrs. Scott;