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Forestier seemed confused; then she said in a natural voice, though her cheeks were tinged with a blush: "Come in, my dear sir; allow me to present to you an old comrade of Charles, M. Georges Duroy, a future journalist." Then in a different tone, she said: "Our best and dearest friend, Count de Vaudrec." The two men bowed, gazed into one another's eyes, and then Duroy took his leave.
Then she said as she noted the effect: "Now I am satisfied; my mantelpiece looks pretty," adding with an air of conviction: "Vaudrec is charming; you will become intimate with him at once," A ring announced the Count. He entered as if he were at home. After gallantly kissing Mme. Du Roy's hand, he turned to her husband and cordially offered his hand, saying: "How are you, my dear Du Roy?"
I have heard that he has been ailing of late," the man replied; "The Count is very ill, sir; they think he will not live through the night; the gout has reached his heart." Du Roy was so startled he did not know what to do! Vaudrec dying! He stammered: "Thanks I will call again" unconscious of what he was saying. He jumped into a cab and drove home. His wife had returned.
He remembered that he had been told of a Count de Vaudrec who had dowered and given her in marriage. What would she do now? Whom would she marry? Had she projects, plans? He would have liked to know. Why that anxiety as to what she would do? Georges questioned himself, and found that it was caused by a desire to win her for himself. Why should he not succeed?
Georges bowed, and together with his wife left the office. When they arrived home, Du Roy closed the door and throwing his hat on the bed, asked: "What were the relations between you and Vaudrec?" Madeleine, who was taking off her veil, turned around with a shudder: "Between us?" "Yes, between you and him! One does not leave one's entire fortune to a woman unless "
Did he often see that nephew?" "They had not met for ten years." "Had he other relatives?" "No, I believe not." "Will that nephew be his heir?" "I do not know." "Was Vaudrec very rich?" "Yes, very." "Do you know what he was worth?" "No, not exactly one or two millions perhaps." He said no more. She extinguished the light. He could not sleep. He looked upon Mme.
It was some time before he replied; then he said hesitatingly: "The world would never understand how it was that Vaudrec constituted you his sole heiress and that I allowed it. To accept that legacy would be to avow guilty relations on your part and an infamous lack of self-respect on mine. Do you know how the acceptance of it might be interpreted?
Vaudrec was very fond of me, very, but there was nothing more, never." He stamped his foot. "You lie! It is not possible." She replied calmly: "It is so, nevertheless." He resumed his pacing to and fro; then pausing again, he said: "Explain to me, then, why he left all his fortune to you." She did so with a nonchalant air: "It is very simple.
When he mentioned Forestier, he said: "As for him, he was fortunate in marrying his wife." Duroy asked: "What about his wife?" Saint-Potin rubbed his hands. "Oh, she is beloved by an old fellow named Vaudrec he dotes upon her." Duroy felt as if he would like to box Saint-Potin's ears. To change the subject he said: "It seems to me that it is late, and we have two noble lords to call upon!"
First of all he would become a deputy; then he would buy the chronometer; then he would speculate on 'Change, and then, and then he did not enter the office, preferring to confer with Madeleine before seeing Walter again and writing his article; he turned toward home. He reached Rue Drouot when he paused; he had forgotten to inquire for Count de Vaudrec, who lived on Chaussee d'Antin.
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