“Good, then I shall call a family council and have you declared incapable of managing your affairs. When uncles become driveling, it’s time to send them to an asylum.”
At this, the uncle was seized with intense emotion. He glanced about him, and found the room had a sinister aspect with its feeble light; he looked at the dying man, who, held up by his daughters, was swallowing a spoonful of some black liquid; and his heart overflowed, he sobbed as he accused his sister of never having under stood him. Yet, he had already been made unhappy enough by Gueulin’s treachery. They knew he was very sensitive, and they did wrong to invite him to dinner, to make him sad afterward. In short, in place of the fifty thousand francs, he offered all the blood in his veins.
Madame Josserand, who was quite worn out, had decided to leave him to himself, when the servant announced Doctor Juillerat and the Abbé Mauduit. They had met on the landing, and entered together. The doctor found Monsieur Josserand much worse, he was still suffering from the shock occasioned by the scene in which he had been forced to play a part. When, on his side, the priest wished to take Madame Josserand into the drawing-room, having, he said, a communication to make to her, the latter guessed on what subject he had called, and answered majestically that she was with her family and prepared to hear everything there; the doctor himself would not be in the way, for a physician was also a confessor.
“Madame,” then said the priest, with slightly embarrassed gentleness, “you behold in the step I am taking an ardent desire to reconcile two families——”
“My dear Abbé Mauduit, allow me to interrupt you,” said Madame Josserand. “We are deeply moved by your efforts. But never, you understand me! never will we traffic in our daughter’s honor. People who have already become reconciled over this child’s back! Oh! I know all; they were at daggers drawn, and now they are inseparable, reviling us from morning till night. No; such a bargain would be a disgrace—-”
“It seems to me, though, madame—” ventured the priest.
But she drowned his voice, as she superbly continued:
“See! my brother is here. You can question him. He was again saying to me only a little while ago: ‘Here are the fifty thousand francs, Eléonore; settle this miserable matter!’ Well! ask him what reply I made. Get up, Narcisse. Tell the truth.” The uncle had already again fallen asleep in an arm-chair, at the end of the room. He moved, and uttered a few disconnected words. Then, as his sister insisted, he placed his hand on his heart, and stammered:
“When duty speaks, one must obey. The family comes before everything.”
“You hear him?” cried Madame Josserand, with a triumphant air. “No money; it’s disgraceful! Tell those people from us that we don’t die to avoid having to pay. The dowry is here; we would have given it; but, now that it’s exacted as the price of our daughter, the matter becomes too disgusting. Let Auguste take Berthe back first, and then we will see later on.”