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Derame, who, on hearing the name of Chamblard, had a little shiver the shiver of a mother who has a young daughter to marry, and who says to herself, "Oh, what a splendid match!" Her husband had often spoken to her of young Chamblard. "Ah," he used to say to her, "what a marriage for Martha!
Raoul profited by the five minutes' stop to complete and fix his little sketch, which was slightly jolted; and he did not notice that his young brother-in-law had been sent out with a despatch to the telegraph-office. The despatch had been secretly written by Mme. Derame, and had, too, been directed to the Old Club. The train started 4.11.
Derame entered the dining-room of the hotel at eleven o'clock, Raoul went straight to her, and the cavalryman, always adroit in his manoeuvres, had taken possession of Mlle. Martha. A short dialogue ensued between Raoul and Mme. Derame, who was much agitated.
Shall I put a stop to it or allow it to continue? Large fortune, isn't there?" M. Derame in his turn showed his despatch to M. Chamblard. They continued to talk, in high good-humor and in excellent accord, and went on with their game of piquet only after having sent the following two telegrams to the Hôtel de Noailles: First despatch to Mme. Derame: "If it pleases you, if it pleases her, yes.
Derame said to herself: "Martha's falling in love; I know her, she is falling in love. She fell in love just so last year at a ball with a little youth who was very dandified, but without fortune. This time, luckily, yes Edward told me so there is plenty of money; so, naturally, if Martha is willing we are." The train ran on, and on, and on; and Raoul talked, and talked, and talked.
Night had come; it was necessary, therefore, to tear one's self away from that exquisite conversation, and return to the parlor-car. Young Derame was going to sleep; so they began to prepare for the trip through the train. Here is the platform, the platform of the morning, the platform of the first meeting. She walks ahead of him, and in a whisper he says to her, "It's here that this morning "
Why was he talking to her mother, and so low, so low that she couldn't hear? What was he saying? What was he saying? This is what he said between Montélimar, 8.35, and Pierrelatte, 8.55: "Listen to me, madam, listen to me. I am an honest man; I wish, I ought, to let you know the situation, the entire situation. Let us first settle an important point. My father knows M. Derame."
"In such a situation? I acknowledge it, madam, and for that very reason you must get out of the situation quickly; it's evident that it can't be prolonged." "That's true " "Here is what I propose to you. You go to the Hôtel de Noailles; I, too, naturally. You have all the morning to-morrow to talk to Mlle. Martha, and the telephone to talk through to M. Derame. You know who I am.
Raoul literally dazzled Martha by his inexhaustible fertility of wise expressions and technical terms. Piquet? With pleasure. So there they sat, face to face. There were there eight or ten card-tables piquet, bezique, whist, etc. The works were in full blast. First game, and papa Derame is rubiconed; the second game was going to begin when a footman arrives with a despatch for M. Chamblard.
What luck, what a providential meeting! "But you told me that your son didn't wish to marry." "He didn't wish to, but he has seen your daughter, and now he wishes to. Come, hurry up and send a telegram to Marseilles to Mme. Derame." "But she will be thunderstruck when I present to her a son-in-law by telegraph." Return of the footman. It was a despatch for M. Derame. He opens it.
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