“Madame,” said the curé, who alone remained with the viscount, “why wound that excellent Monsieur Minoret, who has nevertheless saved you at least twenty-five thousand francs in Paris, and who has had the delicacy to leave your son twenty thousand for his debts of honor?”
“Your Minoret is a sneak,” she said, taking a pinch of snuff, “he knows very well what he is about.”
“My mother thinks that he wants to force me to marry his ward by gobbling up our farm, as if a Portenduère, son of a Kergarouët, could be forced to marry against his will.”
An hour afterward, Savinien called at the doctor’s, where the heirs chanced to be, brought there by curiosity. The young viscount’s appearance produced a sensation that was all the keener as, in each of the company, it roused different emotions. Mesdemoiselles Crémière and Massin whispered while looking at Ursule, who was blushing. The mothers said to Désiré that Goupil might be right with regard to this marriage. The eyes of all present then turned upon the doctor, who did not rise to receive the nobleman, but was pleased to greet him with an inclination of the head without leaving the dice-box, for he was playing a game of backgammon with Monsieur Bongrand. The doctor’s coolness surprised everybody.
“Ursule, my child,” he said, “give us a little music.”
Seeing the young girl, happy to be noticed, fly to
