“What on earth can it mean?”
Mme. Rosémilly began to laugh.
“Why, a legacy, of course. I am sure of it. I bring good luck.”
But they did not expect the death of any one who might leave them anything.
Mme. Roland, who had a good memory for relationships, began to think over all their connections on her husband’s side and on her own, to trace up pedigrees and the ramifications of cousin-ship.
Before even taking off her bonnet she said:
“I say, father” (she called her husband “father” at home, and sometimes “Monsieur Roland” before strangers), “tell me, do you remember who it was that Joseph Lebru married for the second time?”
“Yes—a little girl named Dumenil, a stationer’s daughter.”
“Had they any children?”
“I should think so! four or five at least.”