"You don't appear to take Mademoiselle Zara's feelings into consideration."
"Feelings!" echoed Madame Alpenny vehemently. "What are feelings of any sort compared with poverty? I have little money myself, and what I have is all in these things." She touched her rings, bracelets and brooches. "Zara does not earn what her talents demand. We want money, and the sole way in which we can get it is for her to marry money. Failing you there are others."
"Quite so," said Hench, thinking of Bracken, and smiling slightly. "But a man who has no wealth may wish to marry her."
"Referring to yourself, I suppose," said Madame Alpenny dryly, and quite mistaking his meaning. "Well, you won't marry her unless you prove through those papers and that advertisement to be possessed of a fortune. Until then, I hope you will be circumspect with regard to Zara. Don't be too attentive to her, and turn the poor child's head."
"There is no fear of my doing that," said Hench equally dryly, "but to make things safe I propose to remove myself from temptation. To-morrow I shall leave this place."
"For how long?"
"For ever."
"Oh,"--Madame Alpenny looked as black as thunder, as this proposal by no means suited her scheme of getting a rich son-in-law,--"don't do that."
"Why not? After all, there is nothing to keep me here."
"Zara!"