marquis."
"Then give me my clothes—quick, I am in haste; I shall be going out shortly. I—"
"But if your lordship would only—"
"Do as I desire you, Joseph," said M. d'Harville, in a more gentle tone; then added, "Is your lady stirring yet?"
"I have not yet heard her ladyship's bell, my lord marquis."
"Let me know when she rings."
"I will, my lord."
"Heaven and earth, man, how slow you are!" exclaimed M. d'Harville, whose raging thoughts almost chafed him into madness; "summon Philip to assist you; you will keep me all day."
"My lord, please to allow me to set matters a little straight first," replied Joseph, sorrowfully; "I would much rather no one but myself witnessed the state of your chamber, or they would wonder, and talk about it, because they could not understand what had taken place during the night, my lord."
"And if they were to find out, it would be a most shocking affair—would it not?" asked M. d'Harville, in a tone of gloomy irony.
"Thank God, my lord, not a soul in the house has the least suspicion of it!"
"No one suspects it," repeated M. d'Harville, despondingly; "no one—that's well, for her at least; well, let us hope to keep the secret."
And, while Joseph was occupying himself in repairing the havoc in his master's apartment, D'Harville walked up to the stage of arms we before mentioned, examined them with an expression of deep interest, then, turning towards Joseph, with a sinister smile, said:
"I hope you have not omitted to clean the guns which are placed at the top of the stand—I mean those in my hunting-case."
"I had not your lordship's orders to do so," replied the astonished servant.
"You had, sir, and have neglected them!"
"I humbly assure you, my lord—"
"They must be in a fine state!"
"Your lordship will please to bear in mind that it is scarcely a month since they were regularly repaired and put in order for use by the gunsmith."
"Never mind! As soon as I am dressed reach down my shooting-case; I will examine the guns myself. I may very possibly go out shooting either to-morrow or next day."
"I will reach them down directly, my lord."
The chamber being by this time replaced in its ordinary state, a second valet de chambre was summoned to assist Joseph.
His toilet concluded, M. d'Harville repaired to his study, where the steward (M. Doublet) and his lawyer's clerk were awaiting him.
"We have brought the agreement that my lord marquis may hear it read over," said the bowing clerk; "my lord will then only have to sign it, and the affair is concluded."
"Have you perused it, M. Doublet?"
"I have, my lord, attentively."
"In that case I will affix my signature at once."
The necessary forms completed, the clerk withdrew, when M. Doublet, rubbing his hands, and looking triumphantly, exclaimed:
"Now, then, by this last addition to your lordship's estates, your manorial property cannot be less than a hundred and twenty-six thousand francs per annum, in round numbers. And permit me to say, my lord marquis, that a rent-roll of a hundred and twenty-six thousand francs per annum is of no common occurrence nowadays."
"I am a happy man, am I not, M. Doublet? A hundred and twenty-six thousand livres per annum! Surely the man owning such an income must be blessed indeed—sorrow or care cannot reach him through so golden a shield!"
"And that is wholly independent of my lord's funded property, amounting at least to two millions more; or reckoning—"
"Exactly; I know what you would say; without reckoning my other blessings and comforts."
"Why, heaven be praised, your lordship is as rich in all earthly blessings as in revenue. Not a precious gift but it has been largely bestowed upon you; ay, and such as even money will not buy: youth, uninterrupted health, the power of enjoying every happiness, amongst which, or, rather, at the head of which," said M. Doublet, gracefully smiling, and gallantly bowing, "place that of being the husband of so sweet a lady as Madame la Marquise, and the parent of a lovely little girl, who might be mistaken for a cherubim."
M. d'Harville cast a look of gloomy mistrust on the poor steward; who, revelling in his own ecstasy at seeing the princely rent-roll committed to his charge, exceeding all others in magnificent amount, was far from perceiving the scowling brow of his master, thus congratulated on being the happiest man alive, when, to his own view, a verier wretch, or more complete bankrupt in happiness existed not. Striking M. Doublet familiarly on the shoulder, and breaking into a wild, ironical laugh, M. d'Harville rejoined:
"Then you think that with an income of two hundred and sixty thousand livres, a wife like mine, and a daughter resembling a cherubim, a man has nothing more to wish for?"
"Nay, my lord," replied the steward, with honest zeal, "you have still to wish for the blessing of lengthened days, that you may be spared to see mademoiselle married as happily as yourself. Ah, my lord, I may not hope to see it, but I should be thankful to witness you and my honoured lady surrounded by your grandchildren—ay, and great-grandchildren too—why not?"
"Excellent, M. Doublet! A regular Baucis and Philemon idea. You have always a capital illustration to your ideas."
"You are too good to me, my lord. Has your lordship any further orders for me?"
"None. Stay, though; what cash have you in hand?"
"Twenty-nine thousand three hundred and odd francs for current expenses, my lord marquis; but there is a heavy sum at the bank belonging to this quarter's income."
"Well, bring me twenty thousand francs in gold, and, should I have gone out, give them to Joseph for me."
"Does your lordship wish for them this morning?"
"I do."
"Within an hour the gold shall be here. You have nothing else to say to me, my lord?"
"No, M. Doublet."
"A hundred and twenty-six thousand francs per annum, wholly unincumbered," repeated the steward, as he was about to quit the room; "this is a glorious day for me to see; I almost feared at one time that we should not secure this desirable property. Your lordship's most humble servant, I take my leave."
"Good morning, M. Doublet."
As the door closed upon the steward, M. d'Harville, overcome with the mental agony he had repressed thus far, threw himself into an armchair, leaned his elbows on the desk before which he sat, and covering his face with his hands, for the first time since receiving the fatal billet, gave vent to a flood of hot, burning tears.
"Cruel mockery of fate!" cried he, at length, "to have made me rich, but to have given me only shame and dishonour
