“Because, my darling, you must love only the man you marry; and, even if Monsieur Savinien de Portenduere loved you—”
“I never thought of it.”
“But listen: even if he loved you, even if his mother asked me to give him your hand, I should not consent to the marriage until I had subjected him to a long and thorough probation. His conduct has been such as to make families distrust him and to put obstacles between himself and heiresses which cannot be easily overcome.”
A soft smile came in place of tears on Ursula’s sweet face as she said, “Then poverty is good sometimes.”
The doctor could find no answer to such innocence.
“What has he done, godfather?” she asked.
“In two years, my treasure, he has incurred one hundred and twenty thousand francs of debt. He has had the folly to get himself locked up in Saint-Pelagie, the debtor’s prison; an impropriety which will always be, in these days, a discredit to him. A spendthrift who is willing to plunge his poor mother into poverty and distress might cause his wife, as your poor father did, to die of despair.”
“Don’t you think he will do better?” she asked.
“If his mother pays his debts he will be penniless, and I don’t know a worse punishment than to be a nobleman without means.”
This answer made Ursula thoughtful; she dried her tears, and said:—