"Is anything the matter, cousin; for we are still cousins, are we not?
You seem changed."
Goupil looked so ardently at Ursula that she was frightened, and went
back into the house without replying.
"She is cross," said Minoret to the abbe.
"Mademoiselle Mirouet is quite right not to talk to men on the
threshold of her door," said the abbe; "she is too young--"
"Oh!" said Goupil. "I am told she doesn't lack lovers."
The abbe bowed hurriedly and went as fast as he could to the Rue des
Bourgeois.
"Well," said Goupil to Minoret, "the thing is working. Did you notice
how pale she was. Within a fortnight she'll have left the town--you'll
see."
"Better have you for a friend than an enemy," cried Minoret,
frightened at the atrocious grin which gave to Goupil's face the
diabolical expression of the Mephistopheles of Joseph Brideau.
"I should think so!" returned Goupil. "If she doesn't marry me I'll
make her die of grief."
"Do it, my boy, and I'll GIVE you the money to buy a practice in
Paris. You can then marry a rich woman--"
"Poor Ursula! what makes you so bitter against her? what has she done
to you?" asked the clerk in surprise.
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