“Then,” said Cerizet, “it is to Mademoiselle Lydie de la Peyrade, his cousin, that you wish to marry Theodose.”
“You have said it,” returned du Portail, “and you must not think that our young friend, if he accepts the marriage, will be called upon to show a gratuitous devotion. Lydie is very agreeable in person; she has talents, a charming disposition, and she can bring to bear, in her husband’s interest, a strong influence in public life. She has, moreover, a pretty fortune, consisting of what her mother left her, and of my entire property, which, having no heirs myself, I intend to secure to her in the marriage contract. Besides all this, she has this very night acquired a not inconsiderable legacy.”
“What!” exclaimed Cerizet, “do you mean that old Toupillier—”
“By a will in his own handwriting, which I have here, that old pauper constitutes her his sole legatee. You see, therefore, that I showed some kindness in not proceeding against you and Madame Cardinal for your little attempt last night; it was simply our property that you were trying to pillage.”
“Heavens!” cried Cerizet, “I won’t pretend to excuse Madame Cardinal’s misconduct; and yet, as one of the legal heirs, dispossessed by a stranger, she had, it seems to me, some right to the indulgence which you certainly showed to her.”
“In that you are mistaken,” said du Portail; “the apparent liberality of the old beggar to Mademoiselle de la Peyrade happens to be only a restitution.”
“A restitution!” exclaimed Cerizet, in a tone of curiosity.
“A restitution,” repeated du Portail, “and nothing is easier than to prove it. Do you remember the robbery of some diamonds from one of our dramatic celebrities about ten years ago?”
“Yes,” replied Cerizet. “I was manager of one of my newspapers at the time, and I used to write the ‘Paris items.’ But stay, I remember, the actress who lost them was Mademoiselle Beaumesnil.”
“Precisely; the mother of Mademoiselle de la Peyrade.”