“Madame, I am all attention. But, if you would deign to make me happy, say that one word, ‘I love you!’” M. Lacordaire, as he uttered these words, did not look, as the saying is, at his best. But Mrs. Thompson forgave him. She knew that elderly gentlemen under such circumstances do not look at their best.
“But if I consented to—to—to such an arrangement, I could only do so on seeing that it would be beneficial—or, at any rate, not injurious—to my children; and that it would offer to ourselves a fair promise of future happiness.”
“Ah, madame; it would be the dearest wish of my heart to be a second father to those two young ladies; except, indeed—” and then M. Lacordaire stopped the flow of his speech.
“In such matters it is so much the best to be explicit at once,” said Mrs. Thompson.
“Oh, yes; certainly! Nothing can be more wise than madame.”
“And the happiness of a household depends so much on money.”
“Madame!”
“Let me say a word or two, Monsieur Lacordaire. I have enough for myself and my children; and, should I every marry again, I should not, I hope, be felt as a burden by my husband; but it would, of course, be my duty to know what were his circumstances before I accepted him. Of yourself, personally, I have seen nothing that I do not like.”
“Oh, madame!”
“But as yet I know nothing of your circumstances.”