“Good heavens! monsieur,” cried Madame Evangelista, who saw defeat in delay, “everything has already been considered and weighed. I was ignorant of what the process of marriage is in France; I am a Spaniard and a Creole. I did not know that in order to marry my daughter it was necessary to reckon up the days which God may still grant me; that my child would suffer because I live; that I do harm by living, and by having lived! When my husband married me I had nothing but my name and my person. My name alone was a fortune to him, which dwarfed his own. What wealth can equal that of a great name? My dowry was beauty, virtue, happiness, birth, education. Can money give those treasures? If Natalie’s father could overhear this conversation, his generous soul would be wounded forever, and his happiness in paradise destroyed. I dissipated, foolishly, perhaps, a few of his millions without a quiver ever coming to his eyelids. Since his death, I have grown economical and orderly in comparison with the life he encouraged me to lead—Come, let us break this thing off! Monsieur de Manerville is so disappointed that I—”
No descriptive language can express the confusion and shock which the words, “break off,” introduced into the conversation. It is enough to say that these four apparently well-bred persons all talked at once.
“In Spain people marry in the Spanish fashion, or as they please; but in France they marry according to French law, sensibly, and as best they can,” said Mathias.
“Ah, madame,” cried Paul, coming out of his stupefaction, “you mistake my feelings.”
“This is not a matter of feeling,” said the old notary, trying to stop his client from concessions. “We are concerned now with the interests and welfare of three generations. Have we wasted the missing millions? We are simply endeavoring to solve difficulties of which we are wholly guiltless.”
“Marry us, and don’t haggle,” said Solonet.
“Haggle! do you call it haggling to defend the interests of father and mother and children?” said Mathias.
“Yes,” said Paul, continuing his remarks to Madame Evangelista, “I deplore the extravagance of my youth, which does not permit me to stop this discussion, as you deplore your ignorance of business and your involuntary wastefulness. God is my witness that I am not thinking, at this moment, of myself. A simple life at Lanstrac does not alarm me; but how can I ask Mademoiselle Natalie to renounce her tastes, her habits? Her very existence would be changed.”
“Where did Evangelista get his millions?” said the widow.
“Monsieur Evangelista was in business,” replied the old notary; “he played in the great game of commerce; he despatched ships and made enormous sums; we are simply a landowner, whose capital is invested, whose income is fixed.”