Then, perceiving Bongrand who was going to play whist opposite, he rushed into the street.
“You are very much interested in Ursule Mirouët, my dear Monsieur Bongrand,” he said, “you cannot be indifferent to her future. Here is the programme: that she should marry a notary whose practice will be in a chief town of the district. This notary, who is bound to be deputy in three years, will bring her a dowry of one hundred thousand francs.”
“She can do better,” said Bongrand, drily. “Since her misfortunes, Madame de Portenduère has not been at all well; even yesterday she was terribly altered, sorrow is killing her; Savinien still has six thousand francs a year, Ursule has forty thousand francs, I shall have their capitals put out at interest à la Massin, but honestly, and in ten years they will have a small fortune.”
“Savinien would be a fool; he can marry Mademoiselle du Rouvre when he pleases, an only daughter to whom her uncle and aunt intend to leave two magnificent legacies.”
“‘When Love lays hold upon us, good-bye to prudence,’ says La Fontaine. But who is he, your notary? for after all—” rejoined Bongrand out of curiosity.
“I,” replied Goupil, startling the justice of the peace.
“You?” answered Bongrand, without concealing his disgust.
“Ah well! your servant, monsieur,” replied
