“Mademoiselle,” he cried gallantly, “if I were as young as your fiancé, you might call me all the endearing names in the dictionary and I wouldn’t complain. Is this young gentleman a Frenchman?”
“Yes, Monsieur,” replied Fifi, sweetly.
“Then,” replied Colonel Bruart, turning his broad back on the scene, “I am glad there are not many like him. Adieu, Mademoiselle.”
Fifi, Madame Bourcet and Louis returned to the drawing-room. The Bourcets were stupefied. Fifi was evidently a dangerous person to adopt into a family, but a hundred thousand francs is a great deal of money. Fifi, by way of administering a final shock, said:
“Anyway, the gown only cost five hundred francs, and that seemed to me little enough to pay for pleasing you, Louis. And yet, you do not seem pleased.”
“I am not,” responded Louis, who found Fifi’s singular endearments as trying as her clothes.
The evening passed with the utmost constraint on every one except Fifi, who was entirely at her ease and in great spirits.
Madame Bourcet and Louis each spent a sleepless night, and next morning held a council of war in Madame Bourcet’s bedroom. Another startling thought had occurred to them: where did Fifi get the money to pay for the outlandish things? On each parcel Madame Bourcet had noted the mark “Paid.” Fifi had not gone to the bank; and yet, she must have had several thousand francs in hand. Possibly, she had more than a hundred thousand francs. The Holy Father might have presented her with a considerable sum of money the day he had the long interview with her.
There were many perplexing surmises; and, at last, wearied with their anxieties, both Madame Bourcet and Louis resolved that Madame Bourcet, after attending her brother’s lecture, should consult that eminent man, as an expert in managing heiresses. It had become a very serious question as to whether Fifi should be admitted into the Bourcet family or not, but then, there was the money!
Madame Bourcet was not expected to return before half-past two, as her conference with the professor was to take place after the lecture; but at two o’clock, precisely, Louis Bourcet appeared. He had spent an anxious morning. Whichever way the cat might jump would be disastrous for him. If he went on with the marriage, he was likely to die of shock at some of Fifi’s vagaries; and if the marriage were declared off, there was a hundred thousand francs, and possibly more, gone, to say nothing of the last chance of being allied to a reigning sovereign. Poor Louis was beset with all the troubles of the over-righteous man.