Nothing of the kind. It was a nightmare which could only end in exasperating the two impassioned creatures, on whom the lawyer had something of the fascinating effect of a snake on a pair of birds; before long they would be driven to cut him short.
The clever notary was giving them the history of the discreditable ways in which one du Tillet (a stockbroker then much in favor) had laid the foundations of his fortune; all the ins and outs of the whole disgraceful business were accurately put before them; and the narrator was in the very middle of his tale when M. de Vandenesse heard the clock strike nine. Then it became clear to him that his legal adviser was very emphatically an idiot who must be sent forthwith about his business. He stopped him resolutely with a gesture.
“The tongs, my lord Marquis?” queried the notary, handing the object in question to his client.
“No, monsieur, I am compelled to send you away. Mme. d’Aiglemont wishes to join her children, and I shall have the honor of escorting her.”
“Nine o’clock already! Time goes like a shadow in pleasant company,” said the man of law, who had talked on end for the past hour.
He looked for his hat, planted himself before the fire, with a suppressed hiccough; and, without heeding the Marquise’s withering glances, spoke once more to his impatient client:
“To sum up, my lord Marquis. Business before all things. To-morrow, then, we must subpoena your brother; we will proceed to make out the inventory, and faith, after that——”
So ill had the lawyer understood his instructions, that his impression was the exact opposite to the one intended. It was a delicate matter, and Vandenesse, in spite of himself, began to put the thick-headed notary right. The discussion which followed took up a certain amount of time.
“Listen,” the diplomatist said at last at a sign from the lady, “You are puzzling my brains; come back to-morrow, and if the writ is not issued by noon to-morrow, the days of grace will expire, and then—”
As he spoke, a carriage entered the courtyard. The poor woman turned sharply away at the sound to hide the tears in her eyes. The Marquis rang to give the servant orders to say that he was not at home; but before the footman could answer the bell, the lady’s husband reappeared. He had returned unexpectedly from the Gaieté, and held both children by the hand. The little girl’s eyes were red; the boy was fretful and very cross.