The Cobbler and the Marquis

Auckland Star, Volume XVII, Issue 208, 4 September 1886, Page 6

The Cobbler and the Marquis

By R. H. BULLEN

CHAPTER I.

In tho summer of 1753, two persons wore sitting in a finely furnished apartment of one of those grand old Parisian mansions Bwopt away by tho ruthless hand of Baron ilauesman. One of them was a lady of uncommon beauty, and dressed with an eye to effect; tho other was a young ninn whose exterior promised tho gentleman, and whose business proclaimed him an artist, for he was ongagod in painting the lady's portrait. For some minutes neither spoke, and the artist seemod to bo studying his subject, for his brush was idle. At length the lady broke the silence.

" What tiring work this is !" she oxclaimed with a trace of pottishnese. ''One tiioro sitting," said the artist, "and 'only one."

" S'd you have said for the last seven," returned the lady, vithout any softening of her original tone. . There was a momontary silence ; the painter put down his palette and brush, and 6 slight shade stole over his featuree;pass>ing away as he said, " When a mm holds the thread of his happiness in bis own hand, t4n you wonder that he is loth to sever it ?" The lady smiled slightly, as if amused, nnd said pleasantly, " Very prottily said ; but you needn't look so Benous about it. My dours will still be open to you." "Yes," said the young man in reply; " that I may walk about unnoticed by the aristocratic crowds which surround you." "I own," pursued the lady, as if in a reverie, "thatl am ambitious. My husband left me wealth, but could not leave me that which I coveted more—rank and station." " And yet the first nobles of the land are your constant and ready guests f eaid the painter. " Yea," responded she, " to eat my dinners and suppers, but do 1 visit them 1 No ! tlie Bociety of the merchant's widow would be contamination to the high-born dames they call their wives and daughters. Ont upon it ! the thought chokes mo," The lady spoke with heat, and quite moant what she said. . "The wealth gained by honourable industry," began the artist " Gets great respect for itself, but little for its owner, Let us change the hateful subject. The next sitting, you say, will be the last?" said she inquiringly. 111 feat so, for with that will cease my excuse for being alone with you," said the painter, stifling a sigh. '' Rodolphe !" said the lady,rising quickly, *' you forco me to request that you will apeak more of my portrait and IeBS of myself." ■ ~ " If I have bean too presumptuous, said Rodolphe, "please pardon me," and this time ho sighed without attempting to conceal it. "Nonsenso!" said thela3y kindly. "I said nothing about presumption; Only understand me ior the future; for the present, I am not affronted : there's my hand." She extended herhand, a handsome one, and the artist toucheJ it reverently with his lips. Now just at this moment, as the tates Would have it, who should run into the room but a very charming girl, not yet out of her teens. - " Oh I good gracious," she said, and then stopped short and paid;nothing more, which was very perplexing. As was natural, the lady recovered first. " Well, Cecile !" she said to the girl, "what do you want, pray? Didn't I tell you not to interrupt us ?" " Yes, aunt," eaid Cecile demurely, and with a glance at the young artist, " but I didn't know there would be anything to interrupt. Monsieur Rodolphe has been here a good deal more than his hour." " How do you know ?" inquired her aunt majestically. " Because I watched, aunt, naively roturned Cecile. " Indeed ! Well now you may retire to your own room and watch your lessons," said the aunt, as she smiled with the air of one who thinks she has the best of it. " Ye-es," slowly said Cecile, " but I have something to tell you." " Be quick, then," _ " I was looking out of the window, said Cecile, glancing meanwhile at Rodolphe, " to see if anybody went out—l mean came in—when I saw the carriage of the Viscount de Millefleurs coming this way." "The Viscount!" said the lady. "Oh, if he should have obtained for me an invitation to the fete this ovening at Versailles!" and her face lighted up with anticipated pleasure. .... j The artist turned upon his heel and frowned, while he muttered, " Ever these hankerings after grandeur." " He might have spoken to me I should think," said Cecile to herself and a little hurt. She turned her glance from the artist to his .york, and burst out laughing. " Oh, my goodness ! Bee here," said ehe; "just como and look at your portrait, aunt." ~, , ... "What of it, praj f said her aunt with , some austerity. " There," said the niece, " it has never been touched since yesterday." The artist looked confused. •'lt was to make some alterations," he began to explain, but Cecile stopped him. " Now don't you tell me that! said she ; " Ib'a as dry as a bone." " As you don't know how to behave yourself yet, you shall go back to Bchool this very day," said the lady, annoyed, but whether with the artist oi the niece did not appear. " Oh don't let me go to school any more, aunt," pleaded Cecile. "You shall," was the response. "Then I'll be good; I'll leave the room without saying another word about the portrait,"' Baid poor Cecile, slowly leaving tho room. . ~ " Go, then," said her aunt, peremptorily. "Or," continued Cecile, "about it not having been touched sinoo." " Do you hear me ?" " Or about Monsieur Rodolphe a having been here two houre doing nothing." •'Will yon be silent?" said her aunt, with some increased irritation. "Yes, aunt," said Cecile, as she retired, but with a woman's fondness for the last word, she added, "All I can say, though, is, that if he is as long a'souterery picture, he'll never make his fortune.' With this Parthian arrow she lelt the room. During tho colloquy, the young painter had hovered near the large carement giving upon the Btreet, down which he lookod with some anxiety. " Ever some interruption, he muttered ; " first Cecile, and now this popinjay of the court. I hear his carriage-wheels—this moment shall decide my fate. Thus murmuring, ho turned to the lady, and his wordß broke from him with all the gathered force of passion long pent up. " Hortenße I" Baid ho, and with all the ardour of his addressf he could not control a flattery in his voice : " Hortense, I love y°The lady received thia appeal, not with the frown of offence nor with the simper of flattered vanity! She turned half aside, biting her nether lip with evident emharrasment which had no long endurance. Turning to the painter who dropped upon one kneo, she said, in a tone of constraint, mingled with remonstrance, " Rodolphe, really, after what I have said, it is extraordinary that you should persiet in this language. I must, however, speak more plainly. I am quite sensible of tho compliment you paid me, but I cannot return your passion." There was a pause of uncomfortable silence. The artist dropped his head as one overcome by his emotion?, but lifting it again, he cried, "Give me but one word of hope, and I will leave you. I will travelstudy— work—slave, and never return until lean offer you a name illustrious in art." As he Bpoke, he rose as if inspired by the vision of future triumphs oven in the midst of present defeat, and his cheek, pallid before became flushed with generous warmth. The lady sighed and her glance fell before the firm gaze of her admirer. For a time he fancied that there was a reaction in his favour. He was soon Un"Look e you, Rodolphe !" said Hortense, with more gentloness than before, but with no less resolution :" she whom you marry may well be proud and happy ; for your nature is generous, your talent great, but something beyond these is necessary for mv eKistence. These who are noble ana get poor will not receive me because, though rich I am not noble. They must and shall receive me," and she paced the room impatiently. "To gain thia end the wealth I have must bo reserved forona whose name may prove my passport to their presence.

''And that," said Rodolpheimpro3sivelyi "you think the road to happiness."

•'No matter what I think, I know it is my fate."

"Enough," said tho artist, proudly, yet with respect, " and farewell. My droamis over, may yours bo realised " So saying, ho bowed deeply and left tho rosm. Thrro was a look of relief on tho lady's face as she was loft alone, and she put up a jewelled hand to conceal a slight yawn. " These artists are enthusiasticcreaturee, ' said she. " They got so enamoured of their own paintings, that they fancy themBelves in love with the originals." , With these words she turned to the window, smiling at her thought, as ehe looked out vacantly at a passing clerk. Ho, till this moment in love with nothing less important than a carefully-cultivated moustache, straightway foil in lovo with the lady, and smiled in return and lifted his hat.

Hortoneo turnod shortly upon her heel at this fresh outburst of admiration, and threw herself into a luxurious armchair, where eho fell into a reverie, and peered pensively into futurity over the taper tips of hor uplifted hands, placed palms together.

Madame Horten66 Bertrand was the relict of a wealthy merchant, who, like a good man of business, had put off pleasure for business till ho could put off business for pleasure. By pleasure he understood matrimony, and he had not thought of marriage till Into in life. Not very late, to be sure, for ho did not believo in saving up walnuts till you have no teeth to crack chcrn with, and fortune had so far favoured him that earlier than ia usual he could afford to retiro. He had locked around him for a wife, and took a youngone on the business ground that if you take a partnor, take one that does not know too much. Whether he made a mistake in this is not material to our Btory, for he never lived long enough to find out his mistake. There is ah^ayasome risk in a total chango of habits late in lite, and Monsieur Bertrand had scarcely tasted bliss matrimonial when he doparted tbia life, before his young and beautiful wife could realise his worth. Possibly for this reason she was consoled the sooner ; at all events, after a decent interval of sacrifice to the conventionalities, the fair widow was seen displaying her charms again at rout and ball, looking noither less nor greater for her lose, and as charmiDg aa over to the young mon of ample or no estate, and more so to those roue's broken on the wheel of fortune, for whom, as wealthy and as a widow, she had more attractions than a young belle in her first season Madamo Bertrand sat in her armchair for some length of time. By the nervous tapping of one little, daintly-shod foot that peeped shyly from ite silken shelter, the current >t her thoughts was a little milled and the knitting of hor brows told a similar tale.

A sudden opening of the door broke up the conference with her thoughts, and a footman in all the pomp of plush and powder, announced with more than his usual elevation of voice : " The Viscount de Millefleurs !" Hortense rose quickly, and with radiant looks and cheerful voice, said, " Aha! the King's Grand Master of the Ceremonies!" Almost as she epoke the Viscount entered and bowed as none save a grandmaster can. " A thousand good mornings to the charming widow," quoth the viscount with courtly gallantry; "My lord," said Hortonse, " I am delighted to see you," and sho looked delighted and all the more lovely in consequence. ' Well ?" she added inquiringly. " How beautiful you look !" returned the grandmaster with well-acted abstraction, as he dropped his head a littlo to one side and took a critical pinch of snuff

" Pshaw ! What have you to toll me?"' eaid the widow, threatening to pout.

" A thousand things at loast," said the viscount briskly. "My horses are tired to death. I have already been the whole fashionable round of Paris, and on the morning of so briliiant an entertainment as that which tho king gives to-nijjht, every lady wants to say something to me." "All ladies at all times must bo too charmod to Bee the Viscount de Millefleurs," said Hortonso, smiling.

" Now that is very civil, and it has this advantage over the gonorality of civil speeches, it is very truo. The fact is, beautiful widow, that my knowledge happens to be very deep upon a subject which some people have tho impertinence to say it is not very deep. I moan dross, and the first thing tho dear creatures ask me is—"

" Whether you have brought their cards of invitation," interrupted the lady.

"Oh, oh," said the viscount to himself. His glance settled on the carpet, and the ghost of a smilo hovered about his lips. "Oh dear, no," eaid ho, brightly looking up again. "I trean whether—"

" You must lot me tell you a story. It will mako you die of laughing. I was calling just now upon a little duchess who shall bo nameless upon whose head tho hairdresser and his assistant had been employed ever since daylight in constructing the most magnificent pile of building. You may imagine what it was like when I tell you that counting the real and the artificial duchess as one, the little woman's face came exaotly in the centre of her figure."

" Y"es, but," interjected Hortense —

Bowing but keeping relentlessly on all the same, tbo viscount continued his Btory. " The best part is to como. In her anxiety to get quickly from her boudoir to the ante-room where I wai, she rushed through the doorway, forgetting to stop—carried away the newly-erectod—what shall I cay —monument, pyramid or pagoda, and presented herself before me with her head certainly once more where it ought to be, but her face the picture of despair. Ha !ha ! ha 1" And the Viscount indulged in a laugh which certainly sounded very like a genuine one. "But you don't laugh?" he said, stopping in the midst of his overflow of spirits. " Oh, yes," responded Madame Bertrand, a little blankly, " it's most amusing. But this fete will be very magnificent, will it not ?"

" Very," replied the viscount somewhat drily and bowing. His hilarity had quite departed. His anecdote had not diverted the fair widow's argument (women are so persistent), and his diplomacy not having foiled the enemy, he felt thrown back upon authority aud resistance. "And—and," continued Madame Bertrand, "you alone, I believe, is3ue the invitations ?"

" By virtue of my office." "Am I not fortunate," she said with one of tho sweetest smiles in her armoury, "'in having the honour to number you amongst my friondß ?" "The honour is with me," returned the gallant grandmaster.

"How mach longer this duel of compliment might have continued cannot be said, but it was interrupted by the opening of the door and the disclosing, framed in the doorway, of an odd little figure, draped in abrown coat, brand new, the freshness of which increased by contrast the shabbiness of the rest of his attire. His appearance and a general perfume of leather would have declared his profession, had not a pair of shoes, just mended, put the matter beyond question.

"Monsieur Bernard—oh ? oh !" and the man, about to step into the loom, stopped Bhort on the threshold.

"Who are you ?" asked Hortense, a little stiffly. " What do you want1? Leave the room."

Making an uncouth obeisance, the cobbler advanced into the middle of the room, saying slowly, " I humbly beg your pardon." " Did you hear me ?" and this time the ludy spoke sharply. "Madame," answered the cobbler deliberately and deprecatlngly, "I did. You were condescending enough to npeak so loud that I could not help it; but at the same time that you told me to go, you askod me two questions. Now if I had obeyed by going, I must have disobeyed you by not answering." "There's truth," said Millefleurs. laughing, " in what the scoundrel says " " Sir," gravely rejoined the cobbler, "you are very kind." "Make haste, then, and answer," said Hortense in nowise pleased with the interruption, "I brought these shoes, madame, for Monsieur Bernard, your steward, and_ my name is Crepin, cobbler, at your service," said the artisan bowing, " and also at this gentleman's set vice," bowing to the Viscount ; "indeed, I may say I'm at the public service."

" Enough—go," said the widow shortly. "Yes, madame," humbly Baid the cobbler turning to go.

"Stay," said Millefleurs. "Yes, sir," Baid the cobbler, coming back.

Turning to the widow and bowing for permission, Millefleurs said, "Forgive me : I have a particular reason." Not quite resigned to the situation, but submitting nevertheless, Madame Bertrand once more reclined in the armphair from which sho had risen on the nririval of the grandmaster.

1 " Stand forward, friend," said tho VisI count to Crepin, putting tho shoes carefully : down upon the carpet as if he feared he would hurt them, and, fumbling his felt hat round and round in hia hands uncertainly, the cobbler came forward as desired, quoting fiom his sign, " Orders punctually executed." "Ia your name really Crepin?" inquired the nobleman. "Such, sir, was my father's imprepsion," said the cobbler, with fhe quiet deliberation that seemed characteristic of all his movements. " Cobbler, I think," pursued tho Viscount. " Cobb'or boyond a doubt. Shoes soled and heeled -boots neatly repaired." . "Novqr mind that," said Millofleurs; " are you tho celebrated Cropin ?" "I beg your pardon,'1 eaid tho cobbler, cocking one oar. "I say, are you the celebrated Crepin?' demanded tho Viscount. The cobbler grinned, scratched tho other ear, and said, " Very likely." " Ho," went on Millefleurs, quickly, "he who, for the last three days, has boon the talk of Paris ?"

" Have I really ?" ejaculated the man of shoes. "Now, doesn't that prove that good workmanship and moderate charges will tell in the end?" And the littlo man drew himself up and felt as tall ac the Marquis, and tho Marquis had beon in tho guards. "Listen to me," said the grandmaster. " Aro you not the mnn to whom tho courts of law, in default of payment of a debt, have adjudged tho person of your debtor, the Marquis de Frontignac ?" "Sir," said the cobbler with rueful importance, " I am." Madamo Bertrand, who had, up to this, held aloof with dielike doopeningto disgust, now, with as much surpriso as a lady of fashion allows herself to show, came forward, and, her interest peoping through her guarded carriage toward tho Viscount, asked de Millefleurs for explanation.

" What do I hear, my lord?—tho person of a nobleman adjudgod in servitude to a common cobbler ?"

"Excuse mo, madatne," quoth Crepin, " not a common cobbler," and theßnub noso of the artisan took an important upward turn : " You must have heard this gentleman—nobleman, I mean - cay that for throe days I bavo been tho talk of all Parie." "The Marquis," continued Hortonse, not heeding the man of leather, 4iis a neighbour of mine. What can have led to this dreadful result!"

" Extravagance, reckless extravagance,1' responded tho Marquia, with that philosophy and patronising equanimity with which wo indirectly flatter our own virtue while passing judgment on tho errors of our friends: "and that will find tho bottom of the deepest pursr. But tell your own story, fellow, how it was." "I will, my lord,' said Cropin with a sigh. " You toe, my lord, his lordship's servants first employed mo When I sent in my littlo bill, it was so small they couldn't think of troubling the Marquis with it. After a while I flattered myself it was largo enough to bo worthy of his lordship's attontion, so I sent it in again. This time they said they couldn't think of showing it to him, becauee it was too large. Upon that I wrote and respectfully urged my claim. I received for answer a pattern boot with an order to make three dozen pairs for the Marquie himself. Your lordship, being a nobleman, can quite understand the honour of making boots for a nobleman. I tried to civo satisfaction, and I succeeded, for tho Marquis at once sent me—" " The money ?" inquired Hortenso. " No, madame, an order for throo dozen more."

" Which you," said the grandmaster, " were fool enough to make ?" '• My lord, I was I" returned Crepin dolefully ; " but my jitory waxes to an ond. Tho Marquis did mo tho honour to omploy mo, but he did not do me the honour to pay me. Tho consequence was that / couldn't pay my butcher and baker. yViry owod me, and I was compelled, reluctantly and moßt respectfully, to sue tho Mnrquis." " That is enough," said tho widow when the cobbler had como to the ond of his discourse.

" Yes, madame, I'm going," said Crepin with a bow, and moving to tho door. On roaching it ho turnod and appealed to tho Viscount, saying. "My lord, I humbly beg pirdon, but may I venture to atk your advice ? Being a nobleman yourself, you must know moro about these matters than I do. What would you do with a Marquis if you had him?"

The Viscount slightly elevated his eyebrows, gave tho cobbler the full view of his shoulders for answer as ho turned to the wiadow and applied to bis snuff-box. Madame Bertrand, vexed at the cobbler'g persistency, bade him begone, and he departed. Upon hia departure she turned to the Viscount and asked, " Is it your intention to gratify me with a ticket for tho fete tonight?" "Lovely widow." obsequiously replied the grandmaster, "I should be delighted, but—" and his pauso was eloquent. " You refuse mo then ?" said she.turning away and pouting. " Don't distress me ! What can I do ?" he returned.

"The invitationa rest with you," said Hortenso with tears in her voico if not in her eyes.

"True," faid Millefleurc, "but only as to names. Each card is addressed to the duchess, the marchioness, the countess or baroness of Is it my fault if you are neither of these 7" The Viscount smiled as if he had put an incontestable case. Madame Bertrand remained fixod where she stood, with knit brow and an air of vexation that rendered hsr so charming that the Viecount positively pitied hor. Suddenly, and with the manner of one who has taken her determination,

Hortense went to the table, sat down, and began to write quickly and well. "I am satisfied," was all she said, and that in a ro'olute undertone.

For a few minutes the Viscount regarded her with wonder. " lam delighted to hear it," said he to himself. He had not expected to be let off so easily. Still he was a little curious concerning the lady's present occupation. " A woman is not easily defeated when she has made a resolution," said Hortenße, writing and speaking at the same time. " Under existing circumstances, then, you cannot invite me, Viscount ?"

•' If it depended on personal attractions alone," began the Viscount politely.

"Pray don't talk nonsense," drily answered Hortense.

"Charming widow!" expostulated the grandmaster. "Very, no doubt," said she, in the most business-lide way in the world, and then, addressing him more directly, she went on, "If I bore a title there would be no difficulty in doing aa I wish—it that so ?" " Decidedly," said Millefleurs, bowing additional assent. " That," said ehe, ringing the table-ball and folding and directing the note upon which she had been engaged with quiet determination, and looking at tho grand master with an air of perfect satisfaction, " that I may depend on ?" " You may," replied Mil'efleurs, wondoring what was coming next. " Then," said Hnrtense,rising, " be kind enough to keep one card in blank." For the first time in his life, a? ho afterwards averred, the grandmaster fairly stared. " What on earth does she mean ?" said ho to himself. " Francjois," said Hortense to an entering servant who camo in answer to tbo bell, "let this be delivered instantly, and order the carriage round." The servant took the. letter, bowed, and left the room. "If tho charming widow is going for an airing, I shall be proud to accompany her," said the Viscount gallantly. The widow acknowledged tho compliment with a curteey, but said, "Tho charming widow accept 3 your offer, but for this evening, not this morning. lam going to my lawyer on business of importance. Excuse my leaving you thus abruptly. I shall not be long absont,and hope to find you here on my return. Viscount, I shall reckon on yourarm for thefete to-night." Bhe smiled, curtsied, and departed, leaving the Viscount to gaze blankly after her. CHAPTER 11. DeMilleileukesubsided into the armchair, and remained some time in deep reflection. "Is she going mad," be pondered, "or where is she going? Perhaps she contemplates planting a genealogical tree, and fancies that it will blossom and bear fruit by the evening." Again he tank into abstraction, from which, after a time, he woke up abruptly. He rose from the chair. " I'll pay one more visit and then return. I am as curious as a woman to know what her plan can be." Ho moved towards the door with the intention of going, bat stopped upon hearing voices outside. "No one at home, you say ?" inquired o voice.

" No, sir," returned another, evidently that of a sorvant, who, tho next instant, ushered a visitor in. "In case a gentleman called," explained the eervnnt, " a gentloman who had received a letter, I was to bog him to wait until tho return of tho writer," So saying, the servant went out. " It's very extraordinary," Baid the newcomor, turning over a letter in his hands, and not noticing Millefleurs. Looking up, he encountered the gaze of tho Viscount, and both gentlemen bowed formally. "I beg your pardon," said tho visitor, with a gay air ; "I understood thero was no one at homo, Tho master of the house, I presume." "No, s=ir," returned Millefleurs, shaking his hoad slowly. 11 Somo relation then ?" inquired the gentleman again. " None whatever," said the Viscount. The other looked at him for a moment with a little polite surprise, and thon, with a smilo of amusomont, said, " Possibly.at all ovente, you can toll mo why I came hither."

" Really, sir, if you don't know your own affairs, it's not very likely that I should," and the grandmaster drew up his shoulders slightly, rubbed his hands togother slowly, smiled slightly and bowed again. "I am quiteaware that we are strangers," resumed the visitor.

" For which reason I have the honour to wish you a vory good morning," answered Millofloiua. Both gentlemen bowed, and the grandmaster withdrew. Tho now arrival, when tho Viscount had gono, looked onco more at the letter and laughed. " Wha* does all this moan?" ho eaid. " A lottor with no signaturo, a house with no one at homo, a gontleman who is no relation, and a servant who knows nothing. Well, a man who is thoroughly ruined can afford to take things oasily, so here I'll stay till sorao explanation comes to mo."

Ho throw himself into tho chair that Millofleurs had vacated, and took up a book.

Ho had not been long ongagod with it when the cobblor came in again to fetch his hat which he placed on tho floor noar the entranco, mid had forgotten to tako whon ho had left to go in soarch of tho stoward. He was so busily engaged in counting over some monoy that ho did not p3rcoivo the door-post against which ho ran his hoad, nor his hat upon which ho unmercifully trod.

" This is tho house for roady money," Ke cried, industriously rubbing his head whore he had struck it.

"Ha! I'm glad ta honr that," said tho newcomor, dropping his book. "Stop, my man ; who is the master of this houso ?" inquired he pleasantly. Tho cobbler looked up, not havinp lookod for anyone thore. Encouraged by tho gontleman's manner, ho vonturod to roply, "The mistress, sir," "That's very often the ca9e," laughed tho gentleman, " Good, sir, vory good indoed—but in thifl case thore is no master."

" Oho I" said tho othor under his broath, " a lady ! This grows interesting." " What a nico-looking gentloman I" thought Cropiiijj'^ind whatromarkably noat ehoea !"

"Is tho lady handsomo ?" inquired the gentleman. " Uglier people have beon thought so," was the cobbler's polite answer. " You are a merry dog," said the visitor, struck with tho cobbler's reply. " I like this fellow,' said he quietly. " He's very familiar,"thoughtthemondor of solos ; " I'll try for his custom." "Is thia lady rich?" questioned the othor.

"Rich?" cried Crepin: "wonderful! blocs you, sir, she's all ovor money. She's tho colobratod Madamo Hortense Bertrand, tho widow of one of the richest tnorchants

"It's Ait house, is it?" said tho v-Hitcr. "I know all about her. And what aro you?" "A cobbler,' moekly said Crepin, -'at your sorvico." " A cobbler J" inquired the other, " Yos, sir. I was going to toko tho vory groat liberty of asking for your custom." " You shall not have it," said tho gentloman smiling. Tho artisan lookod a littlo daehod at this. Ho made bold to inquiro after a pause, " Might I venture to ask your reason ?" " Because I like it," said tho visitor. "Would yoa consider mo very bold if I said that's very odd." "Not at all bold," said the gontlomen, smiling, " but it isn't odd." Tho cobbler lookod ob if ho could not mako it out. He hositatdd, shulllod with his feet, and then said : " You'll think mo very Jmpudont, but if I die for it I must ask—why not ?' "Bocause," said viditor, rising and with a loss of gaiety and more of earnost io«s in his tono than before, ■' because I think you an honost fellow, and I know I should never payyou, I wasrioh—lam—ruined."

"Not you, sir. Trado^mon aro ruined sometiraos, gentlemen nevor. I'll venturo to say, now, the shoos you have on are paid for."

Tho gentleman laughed. " Indeed thoy are not," he said, " and I'to nearly worn them out."

" But," suggestod Crepin, "you can got help from your friends." "No,' said tho other meaningly 'I'vo quito worn them out." " Come what will," persisted the cobbler, " I shall be proud to takj your order." " Then you shall," ho was answered, "but mind, 1 warn you, you're mad." Tho gentloman pulled out his card-case.

"There's my card," said he, giving it. Crepin, upon his par^ had produced a Bection of cardboard, rather dusky and somewhat redolent of cobbler • wax.

"What's this?" ejaculated the gentleman, looking hard at tho artisan's pasteboard. "Oh !" cried the cobbler in alarm and staring at the gentleman. " Crepi« — cobbler," pursued the gentleman in amaze.

" Frontignao—Marquis," gasped the cobbler. They faced ene another with mutual astonishment.

"My creditor?" blandly inquired the Marquis, walking up to the cobbler. "My property!" said Crepin, mopping his brow with a red something which passed fora handkerchief. '"I've had a narrow escape." "Hem," said Frontignac, reflectively, with his bands behind his baok and looking down upon his owner. " I don't know that —you only offered to find me in shoos, but, as the law makes me your property, you're bound to find me in everything."

"Don't talk nonsemio, sir," implored Crepin, drawing back in deprecation. "I humbly beg your pardon," he added louting low; "I mean, don't say so, my lord Marquis. I wanted my money, I didn't want you, and why the law gavo you to me I don't know. I haven't the slightest idea what to do with you now I've got you.

" Of course I'm proved to be the owner of a nobleman, but as to keeping you it's the most infernal 1 beg your lordship's pardon, I can't do it." And tho little man almost cried

"And you shan t, said the Mnrquis, reissuringly and slapping the cobbler on the shoulder. " Y'ou're a worthy, honost fellow, and I'm truly sorry I can't pay you avery farthing I owe you," " Can you pay any of it?" said Crepin with a shadow of hope. "No," promptly said the Marquis ; " but I would if I could, and that's something. " So it ie," oseonted Crepin pensively and shaking his head to one Bide ; "it shows a kind foeling." " You've suffered enough from my extravagance," went on the nobleman ; " don't be fool enough to suffer any moro. Send me to prison." "I'll bo damned" stoutly began Crepin; " I humbly beg pardon—l'll do nothing of the sort. I send a nobleman to prison, and above all a nobleman who would pay me if he could ? Besides, con I forget that when I offorod you credit just now, you nobly refused it, becauso you knew you couldn't pay me ? I call that tho act of an honest man, and catch me, cobbler as I am sending an honest man to gaol," and he paused, panting with eloquence and conscious virtue. "Crepin," said Frontignac BtniiiDg at the cobbler's outburst, but touched with it for all that: "you are the prince of cobblers !—there's nothing o man may do which 1 won't do t) get the means of paying you." " You're a glorious fellow," said the delighted Crepin, and he was going to shake the Marquis by the hand, but he checked himself and continued apologetically, "I humbly beg your pardon." " Nay," said Frontignac; " it can hurt no man to shake an honest hand," and he took the hind which Crepin had first profferred and then withdrawn. "Rather waxy, he muttered, running his perfumed handkerchief through his palme, " but never mind. " I hear a carriage," he eaid aloud ; leave mo, friend, for a few minutes." " The Marquis cilia me * friond, that s one comfort," said the cobbler as he moved towards the door. ' _ "I shall never forget how much I owe you." said the nobleman,

"That's another," said Crepin, and ho went out, taking his batteroi hat with him. Scarcely had ho loft when Madamo Bertrand returned, and entered the room where tho Marquis was. •' Now for tho mystery," said Frontignac sotto voce. as ho bowed. Hortenso smiled, curtsied, and said : "Tho Marquis de Frontignac, I believe." "Yoa, madnmo," said he, and acknowledged to himself that the mistress of tho mansion was a very pretty woman. I presume I addross the writer of this letter," and ho offered the document ho had received.

" Yes," said Hortenso, taking and placing it on the table; "it astonishes you, no doubt."

•' Those are not times to bo astonished at anything, especially in Paris," gaily remarked Frontignnc ; " but I wait your pleasuro for an explanation." " You aro very kind," she rejoined ; '•shall WO not sit down?" The Marquis took a Roat at the tablo opposito to tho widow, who placed in front of her a legallooking paper. "Have you studied our box much?' she inquired. " Enough to know perfection whon I sco it," and ho bowed his application of tho remurk with imr raseiveness. Madamo Bertrand, dropping her glance without smiling, said, with a slight cough, "No compliimn's.lbog. I sent for you on busness. You have porhaps observed that our minds, once made up, are not easily turnod."

"It is an observation that has long since passed into a provorb," said Frontignac. . .

" Men usually either livo within their incomes or having once exceeded, sot no bounds to their oxtraragance," Baid the widow.

The Marquis looked steadfastly at Hortonee ; she was a pretty woman, certainly, but her remarks woro becoming personal in their application and the situation wan bocoining a trifle strained. "It would seem that you have studied ue," ho replied. "I have atudiod you. You are a ruined man,"

A red flush ovorepread the foatures of tho nobloman. " Excuse mo, I have too much prido," ho commenced, but the lady stopped him.

" Say, rather, too little. It is somewhat late for a nobleman to talk of pride, who has been adjudged in servitude to a cobbler. ' This was said witnout the urbanity which takes from, or the emphasis which adds to the meaning of worda alone. The Marquis was moved by them, and hcroeo. " ]f, madamo, your only object is to insult my misfortunes—" but tho lady stopped him once more.

" Pray sit down, my lord, such is not my object." "You must feel unhappy," eaid Hortenso.

" I do," ho returned, briefly. " Degraded," sho addod. "I fear so," said ho, shrugging his shoulders.

"No doubt," said Hortenso, an if it woro an ovcryday affair. ''I am rich, and I would givo you tho means of paying your dobte, and of living with credit for the future." Tho nobloman looked at hor keenly and asked, " Whj- this groat intcrost in my wolfira ?" and he drew his chair closer.

"I am about to toll you," eho said without a particlo of tho romantic intorest which Frontignac might have expected. "Perhaps hoforo wo go any further I ought to montion that my debts are largo," »aid

he. " Thoir amount ia of no consequence Frontignac was puzzled. "Tho nobbier was right." ho thought ; "eho must bo 'all ovor money.'" llortonse took as littlo account of his heeitation as sho had done of his passion. '• You aro noble, but poor," eho resumed. " Few moro noblo, " said tho nobloman with gloomy prido ; " nono moro poor." '• I nm wealthy, but a commonor.^ 1 propopo an intorchango of advantages." Tho Marquis smiled. "I don't exactly see how this is to bo accomplished." Hortonse lookod quietly across tho table at him, and laid coolly: "And yet tho way ia nimplo—marriago " Frontignac jumped up with ovory mark of actonishment. " Madamo !" he almost shoutod, and thon murmured to hiniHolf with whatbroath romainod to him, "Mercy on us sho frightens me." " You soom alarmed," said tho widow.

Somewhat rocovereii, the nobleman confessed that tho proposition was eomowhat startling, " And yot," pointed out the lady, " you look greater dangora in tho face without flinching." Frontignac loaned hie head on one hand. "That's very true," ho acknowledged to himaolf, "poverty, persecution, a prison porhap?, fcr all my croditors won't bo liKe that 6ne old cobbler. Where tho deuca can she have eeen me to fall so doiporately in love with mo ?" and ho stole a eide glance "She's even bettor looking than 1 thought 1" However desparately in love with him the widow might have been, it was with a very mercantile air that ibe askod " Well, MarquU, what say you ?' " If I were as much in lovo with her, I cou'dn't be so <»rjposod as she is," he wont on in thought. "I wait your answor," Faid Hortonso pointedly, " I must own," replied Frontignac, " that your proposal is at once tempting nnd flattering. My poterty, yonr beau'y." " I reckon more upon tho first than the second." broke in Hortense with polite decision.

" Which proves your modesty," and Frontignac'bowed and rose, "an aditional claim to my admiration," " Don't let us run the risk of talking about love whon tho question is eimply marriago," said Horteneo, also rising. The nobloman looked rarprieed. " Marriage— not love !" he said to himself.

"Do you," eatf tho widow with the manner of one who expects a positive answer, "do yoi entertain my proposition ?"

" I do !" he said " and in one week from this timo -"

"Excuse me," interrupted Hortense, " but I must hare an answor without delay." The Marquis filt as if his breath had been taksn away. " She's madly in lovo with mo," he iwttered. "By this very evening then," he added aloud. The lady gave him a little smilo of superiority. " You don't understand me yet ; my words were' without delay.' " " I stand hero, astimid men do on the brink of a cold bati, hesitating to make the final plunge," h» said in an aside from which he was awakaned by a fresh query: " Is it yes or no !"

In sheer desperation the Marquis turned to the lady. "My dear lady, even the wretch condemned to execution is allo wed five minutes to say bis prayers. I ask but a similar grace for one who in positivaly frightened at the happiness that threatens him." "I am not treasonable j take five minutes." " Why shoiid I hositate ?" communed the Marquia lith himself," either way I loee my liberty but marriage is better than a prison, one em get out sometimes. Besides, I have w other engagement^ and any woman wilbehave well if Bho's troatod well." Fora mment or two he cogitated further, and tho said aloud, " Frankly, yes." Horteoae, whl had meanwhile occupied herself with a bok, rose and eaid,herself with exultation," I goto tho fece to-night " Marquis," sbesuid, addressing the noble man, " there is by hand." He took it and kissed it with fovour.

".You aro of Ourse aware," he suggested, " that a contrad of marriage will be necessary ?" "You will fid it on that table," she eaid, pointing lo the legal-looking document she had bought in.

"Shebeggargtfe," said Frontignac. "If you wish your lawyer to peruse it."

" My lawyer!" lo laughed ; egad, I know forty lawyers rho will be anxiouß to see it No ! love is flind, and blindly I'll sign." He sat down it the table, opened the contract, and looted for the place to sign. . And now, ijust when everything she had planned fir had come out as sho wished, with woman'aperveraity, Hortense felt her courage falte). She looked at him more kindly than lefore. "His generous confidence altnoa drives me from my purpose, Could I but have known his nature, the contract sho4d have been in other terms. It Is not toi late yet," ' Thus reflecting with herself,! she *r»nt up to the Marquis and gently (aid her li«->^ upon bis arm. "Hold, Marquis, you mus., noti s i M u no t "^"Oh^y^are thinking of your * u - "^Y'ofa^nS^a^elodyaggrieved attheCq^tp "No readily P^tJ" uppofl e, you receive a suf- « Provided, i ™ j am valn c h to fhtk tbTtin this case you win. Remem-

ber; I am about to make the merchant'e widow a Marchioness." "Sign, then," sho said at once, and novor forget that you youreolf recalled it to my recollection." . , The Marquis took up tho pen and signed. "Thoro!" he exclaimed with an air of relief; "we mußt now fix a day-for the m"l iniJave already fixed thin day." said HortenFe, . '• Good gracious. I must at onco send for my friends. " My friends," urged tho future marchioneßß, "will bo our witnossep. Anticipating your c:n?ent I have arranged all. "I shall bo a married man before I know where I am,' thought Frontigna. " Excuse mo, my lord," ?aid the widow ; " I must make some slight alteration in my dress." , ~ ~ The Marquis seemed recalled to nimaeir by these words. " Talking of dress, this coat won't do; it's deuced awkward to afk her, but I wish she would lond me a little of my own money to get another," he said in an aside. He paused. The courage of ihe Marquis was beyond question, and he would have met a challengor with far moro eqaniimty than he did this difficulty. With a prelimnary cough he began "My dear—"_ when a storn look from bii prospective, spousa pulled him up. " Madune," he resumed, " some change in myattire will beroquieite," and he regarded her with the air of ono who propoudds a problem. Not a trace of hesitation was visiblo on tho widow's part. "I have thought of that also. Your tailor will be horo immediately. You see. Marquis, you have a very provident wife._ Moro surprised than ever, the Marquis could only murmur, " She's a wonderful woman I" and then assure tho lady that he would bo all impatience until they met again. In return he was assured that tho interval would not be long, salutations stately and of the old school woreexchanged, and the nobleman was left to his reflections.

(To be Continued Next Saturday),