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"A pretty story!" cried Malaga. "My dear boy, go on, I beg of you. This goes to one's heart." "Nothing commonplace could happen between two fighting-cocks of that calibre," added La Palferine. "Pooh!" cried Malaga. "I bet on Maxime," said Cardot. "Nobody ever caught him napping." Desroches drank off a glass that Malaga handed to him. "Mlle.
Cardot, the notary, had produced his aspirant for Celeste's hand in the person of Monsieur Godeschal, attorney and successor to Derville; an able man, thirty-six years of age, who had paid one hundred thousand francs for his practice, which the two hundred thousand of the "dot" would doubly clear off.
"The first inventor of ditches must have been a weakling, for society is only useful to the puny. The savage and the philosopher, at either extreme of the moral scale, hold property in equal horror." "All very fine!" said Cardot; "but if there were no property, there would be no documents to draw up." "These green peas are excessively delicious!"
After making the child welcome to all she had, Madame Schontz went off to her friend Malaga, that Cardot might be warned of the catastrophe that had befallen his future son-in-law. The journalist, not in the least uneasy about the crisis as affecting his marriage, was more and more charming to the lady from the provinces.
We have only come as far as a personal interview; so I count upon your friendship to say nothing of our hopes." "You are very fortunate, madame; marriages are so difficult to arrange in these days." "What can one do? It was chance; but marriages are often made in that way." "Ah! well. So you are going to marry Cecile?" said Mme. Cardot.
The old artist positively declined the offer, bringing forward the value of his fortune in furniture, only now made known to him by Brunner. The Home Secretary, the First President, the attorney for the crown, the Popinots, and those who had other engagements, all went; and before long no one was left except M. Camusot senior, and Cardot the old notary, and his assistant and son-in-law Berthier.
The latter had never much liked his departed wife, a tall, spare, red-haired woman; he was also aware of the circumstances of the late Husson's marriage with Oscar's mother, and without in the least condemning her, he knew very well that Oscar was a posthumous child. His nephew, therefore, seemed to him to have no claims on the Cardot family.
About eleven the next morning, a terrible sound awoke the unfortunate clerk. Recognizing the voice of his uncle Cardot, he thought it wise to feign sleep, and so turned his face into the yellow velvet cushions on which he had passed the night.
However, it was a clever thing to do, for the Cocon d'Or has the custom of the present court as it had that of the Emperor. But to-morrow we will go and see your uncle Cardot, and I hope that you will endeavor to behave properly; for, as I said before, and I repeat it, that is our last hope." Monsieur Jean-Jerome-Severin Cardot had been a widower six years.
After being the master of the ship for seven years, Cardot now found himself towed along by a force of unlimited caprice. But the luckless old gentleman was fond of his tyrant. Florentine was to close his eyes; he meant to leave her a hundred thousand francs. The iron age had now begun. Georges Marest, with thirty thousand francs a year, and a handsome face, courted Florentine.
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