"
"She can do better than that," said Bongrand coldly. "Madame de
Portenduere is greatly changed since her misfortunes; trouble is
killing her. Savinien will have six thousand francs a year, and Ursula
has a capital of forty thousand. I shall show them how to increase it
a la Massin, but honestly, and in ten years they will have a little
fortune.
"Savinien will do a foolish thing," said Goupil; "he can marry
Mademoiselle du Rouvre whenever he likes,--an only daughter to whom
the uncle and aunt intend to leave a fine property."
"Where love enters farewell prudence, as La Fontaine says-- By the
bye, who is your notary?" added Bongrand from curiosity.
"Suppose it were I?" answered Goupil.
"You!" exclaimed Bongrand, without hiding his disgust.
"Well, well!--Adieu, monsieur," replied Goupil, with a parting glance
of gall and hatred and defiance.
"Do you wish to be the wife of a notary who will settle a hundred
thousand francs on you?" cried Bongrand entering Madame de
Portenduere's little salon, where Ursula was seated beside the old
lady.
Ursula and Savinien trembled and looked at each other,--she smiling,
he not daring to show his uneasiness.
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