“With such a purse,” added Michelle complacently.
“Without it,” came from Papa Louis. “Alaine Hervieu has never had to lack for lovers. She has birth and beauty, and there are still those in France who would think themselves rich in gaining her if she were penniless.”
“And,” said Jeanne, watching Madam narrowly, “it is she who will be the gainer if the marriage does not take place. After all is said, would it not be better that it should not? I have stood in place of mother to her, and that is my opinion.”
“And I the same,” Michelle agreed, interpreting rightly the sly glance from Jeanne’s eye, and giving her husband a nudge.
Papa Louis looked thoughtful. “She might do better,” he said, reflectively; and then, as if recovering himself, “I beg your pardon, Madam De Vries, but I speak as a father, and, all things considered, you will admit that she might do better.”
“You are all against me,” passionately Madam broke forth, roused to anger by this seeming defiance of her opinion and this setting aside of her son’s interests. “Have I nothing to say? Do you all dare to dismiss the matter without a word from me?” She arose and swept to the door. “Alaine,” she called. “Alaine, come, my daughter, it is your Lendert’s mother who calls you. Come, my daughter.” And Alaine, from where she was dejectedly pacing the walk, ran to her and was clasped in Madam’s arms.
“Sh! sh!” said Jeanne, as all the rest began to laugh, though her own face was broad with smiles. “We must not let her suspect that we have done it. It was the only way to manage her.”
There were several other bequests in François’s will. A ring and all personal effects to Adriaen, except a sword and a brace of pistols to Petit Marc. To Michelle was left a tidy sum: “In affectionate acknowledgment of past kindnesses.”
A silence fell upon them all as the last words of the will were read. Even now the man’s strong individuality touched them all with a nearness not possible in their thought of another less forceful though more worthy of being loved.
“You will stay with us, Jeanne,” Alaine begged, when they were alone in the garden, for Alaine must show this old friend all her haunts. “You will not return to that rough life.”