"But you told me that your son didn't wish to marry."
"He didn't wish to, but he has seen your daughter, and now he wishes to. Come, hurry up and send a telegram to Marseilles to Mme. Derame."
"But she will be thunderstruck when I present to her a son-in-law by telegraph."
Return of the footman. It was a despatch for M. Derame. He opens it.
"It's from my wife, from Mâcon, 2.15."
"Good," says M. Chamblard; "all goes well, very well."
"Very disturbed. Met in the train the son of M. C., of Rue Rougemont, your club friend. He was presented by Maurice. You often spoke to me of a possible alliance there. Evidently he thinks her charming. Just at present he is talking to her, and looks at her, looks at her. What shall I do? Shall I put a stop to it or allow it to continue? Large fortune, isn't there?"
M. Derame in his turn showed his despatch to M. Chamblard. They continued to talk, in high good-humor and in excellent accord, and went on with their game of piquet only after having sent the following two telegrams to the Hôtel de Noailles:
First despatch to Mme. Derame: "If it pleases you, if it pleases her, yes. Enormous fortune."
Second despatch to Raoul: "Have spoken to D. He is telegraphing to Mme. D. He approves, so do I."