"Yes, but when one gets a dowry, one needn't be too particular about the hour."
"Who is to be married at this hour, gentlemen?" inquired the old man.
"It is very evident that you don't live in this neighbourhood, my friend."
"No. I am a stranger here."
"If you were not, you would know that it was the night for those six marriages that have taken place here on the night of the twelfth of May, for the last four years. On the night of the twelfth of May, every year, six poor young girls are married in this church, and each girl receives a dowry of ten thousand francs."
"From whom?"
"From a worthy man who died five years ago. He left a handsome fund for this purpose, and his name is consequently wonderfully popular in Chaillot."
"And what is the name of the worthy man who dowered these young girls so generously?" inquired the stranger, with a slight tremor in his voice.
"They call him Father Richard, monsieur. He has a son, a very fine young man, who carries out his father's last wishes religiously. And a nobler man than M. Louis never lived. Everybody knows that he and his wife and child live on three or four thousand francs a year, and yet they must have inherited a big fortune from Father Richard, to be able to give six young girls a dowry of ten thousand francs apiece every year, to say nothing of the expenses of the school and of Father Richard's Home."
"Pardon a stranger's curiosity, monsieur, but you speak of a school."