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I thought Madame Desvarennes was as deeply rooted in Paris as the Colonne Vendome! But tell me, what is the object of this journey?" "A freak." "Which manifested itself " "Yesterday morning at breakfast. Pierre Delarue, who is going to finish his business in Algeria, and then settle in France, came to say 'Good-by' to Madame Desvarennes. A letter arrived from the Princess.
He would come back and talk with Madame Desvarennes about it, because she ought to participate in the large profits which the matter promised. There was no risk. The novelty of the undertaking consisted in the concurrence of the largest banking-houses of France and abroad, which would hinder all competition, and prevent hostility on the part of the great money-handlers.
If we had been in Venice, knowing Madame Desvarennes as I do, it would not have been surprising to me to have had Master Serge found at the bottom of the canal some fine morning." "You are not in earnest," muttered the banker. "Much more so than you think.
Think that I have lived for years without kindred, without ties at random; and, believe me, any chain will be light and sweet which holds me to any one or anything. And then," frankly added he, changing his tone and looking at Madame Desvarennes with tenderness, "if I did not do everything to please you I should be ungrateful." "Oh!" cried Madame Desvarennes, "unfortunately that is not a reason."
One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone. She looked serious, as if same important business were pending. She stood before the fireplace; her hands crossed behind her back like a man. Apparently, she had sought to be alone. Cayrol, Jeanne, and Micheline were in the garden. Serge felt uneasy.
Through the half-open door the dancers could be seen passing to and fro, and the sound of music floated in the air. "What has become of you, mamma? I hear that you have been here for more than an hour." "I was talking on business matters with these gentlemen," answered Madame Desvarennes, smoothing from her brow the traces of her cares by an effort of will. "But you, dear, how do you feel?
"The waiter?" cried Madame Desvarennes, astonished. "Oh, he is a sort of banker," said Marechal. "These gentlemen apply to him when they run short of money. The Prince must have found himself in that predicament. Still he has just received the rents for the property in the Rue de Rivoli." "The rents!" grumbled Madame Desvarennes, with an energetic movement. "The rents! A drop of water in a river!
"I ask you so that you may tell me so," resumed Madame Desvarennes, softly. "I know what you think, but that is not enough." She added pleadingly: "Kiss me, will you?" Micheline threw her arms round her mother's neck, saying, "Dear mamma!" which made tears spring to the tortured mother's eyes. She folded her- daughter in her arms, and clasped her as a miser holds his treasure.
"Cayrol!" cried Madame Desvarennes, shuddering, and troubled to find that she had been so easily understood by him whom she had armed on her behalf. "The opportunity was a rare one, though," continued Cayrol, getting excited. "Fancy; I found them together under my own roof. The law allowed me, if not the actual right to kill them, at least an excuse if I did so.
A sharp pain tore her swollen heart; a sob rose to her lips, and, slowly, two tears rolled down her cheeks. Michel, quite pale, looked at her in silence; he held out his hand to her, and said, in a trembling voice: "You were thinking about it, eh?" Madame Desvarennes bowed her head, twice, silently, and without adding another word, the pair fell into each other's arms and wept.
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