"What a misadventure," cried Madame Wtorkowska, wringing her hands.

"Bah! We can arrange it. I will have Henri. The others? I am disgusted with them."

Her mother said in a low voice:--

"To marry Henri will be the same as to marry a widower, for a divorce is almost the same thing."

"What has that to do with it? I wonder how many times most men have been widowers before marriage."

"That is true. Then that is no objection; but you must hasten things, my child. Be quick about it."

"Ah! I understand that there is no money in the house. I will borrow some of Henri."

Madame Wtorkowska thanked Heaven that had given her so practical a daughter.

CHAPTER XXX.

[THE INSURGENTS.]