The arrangement for Dr. Sevier to place the loan of fifty dollars on his own books at Richling’s credit naturally brought Narcisse into relation with it.
It was a case of love at first sight. From the moment the record of Richling’s “little quantity” slid from the pen to the page, Narcisse had felt himself betrothed to it by destiny, and hourly supplicated the awful fates to frown not upon the amorous hopes of him unaugmented. Richling descended upon him once or twice and tore away from his embrace small fractions of the coveted treasure, choosing, through a diffidence which he mistook for a sort of virtue, the time of day when he would not see Dr. Sevier; and at the third visitation took the entire golden fleece away with him rather than encounter again the always more or less successful courtship of the scorner of loans.
A faithful suitor, however, was not thus easily shaken off. Narcisse became a frequent visitor at the Richlings’, where he never mentioned money; that part was left to moments of accidental meeting with Richling in the street, which suddenly began to occur at singularly short intervals.
Mary labored honestly and arduously to dislike him—to hold a repellent attitude toward him. But he was too much for her. It was easy enough when he was absent; but one look at his handsome face, so rife with animal innocence, and despite herself she was ready to reward his displays of sentiment and erudition with laughter that, mean what it might, always pleased and flattered him.
“Can you help liking him?” she would ask John. “I can’t, to save my life!”
Had the treasure been earnings, Richling said—and believed—he could firmly have repelled Narcisse’s importunities. But coldly to withhold an occasional modest heave-offering of that which was the free bounty of another to him was more than he could do.
“But,” said Mary, straightening his cravat, “you intend to pay up, and he—you don’t think I’m uncharitable, do you?”
“I’d rather give my last cent than think you so,” replied John. “Still,”—laying the matter before her with both open hands,—“if you say plainly not to give him another cent I’ll do as you say. The money’s no more mine than yours.”
“Well, you can have all my share,” said Mary, pleasantly.
So the weeks passed and the hoard dwindled.