francs a year in property lying round his Château du Rouvre, and all the world knows that I have forty-eight thousand permanent and financial reasons for not loving the ward of the court If I were to marry an insignificant girl, these ladies would take me for an idiot.”
“Then you have never tormented your father on the subject of Ursule?”
“Never.”
“You hear this, Monsieur le Procureur du Roi?” said the justice of the peace to this magistrate, who had been listening to them, and whom he led into an embrasure, where they stood talking about a quarter of an hour. An hour afterward, the justice of the peace, having returned to Nemours and to Ursule’s house, sent La Bougival to fetch Minoret, who came immediately.
“Mademoiselle—” said Bongrand to Minoret as he came in.
“Accepts?’ said Minoret interrupting him.
“No, not yet,” replied the justice, feeling his spectacles, “she has had scruples as to your son’s condition, for she has been very badly treated in regard to a similar passion, and knows the cost of tranquillity. Can you swear to her that your son is madly in love with her, and that you have no other motive than that of protecting our dear Ursule from any fresh goupilleries?”
“Oh! I swear,” said Minoret.
“Stop! Papa Minoret!” said the justice of the peace, removing one of his hands from his
