“I can’t help knowing it, monsieur, for yesterday at Madame Marion’s, Madame Beauvisage said openly that Monsieur Grevin, Cecile’s grandfather, would give his granddaughter the hotel de Beauseant in Paris and two hundred thousand francs for a wedding present.”
The stranger’s eyes expressed no surprise. He seemed to consider the fortune rather paltry.
“Do you know Arcis well?” he asked of Goulard.
“I am the sub-prefect and I was born here.”
“What is the best way to balk curiosity?”
“By satisfying it. For instance, Monsieur le Comte has a baptismal name; let him register that with the title of count.”
“Very good; Comte Maxime.”
“And if monsieur will assume the position of a railway official, Arcis will be content; it will amuse itself by floating that stick at least for a fortnight.”
“No, I prefer to be concerned in irrigation; it is less common. I have come down to survey the wastelands of Champagne in order to reclaim them. That will be, my good Monsieur Goulard, a reason for inviting me to dine with you to-morrow to meet the mayor and his family; I wish to see them, and study them.”
“I shall be only to happy to receive you,” said the sub-prefect; “but I must ask your indulgence for the deficiencies of my little household.”