Ursula

doctor.
    "Already!" cried Minoret, looking at Bongrand. "Yes," he said to Ursula, "send him here."
    "I'll bet my spectacles to a bunch of matches that he is the advance-guard of your heirs," said Bongrand. "They breakfasted together at the post house, and something is being engineered."
    The notary, conducted by Ursula, came to the lower end of the garden. After the usual greetings and a few insignificant remarks, Dionis asked for a private interview; Ursula and Bongrand retired to the salon.
    The distrust which superior men excite in men of business is very remarkable. The latter deny them the "lesser" powers while recognizing their possession of the "higher." It is, perhaps, a tribute to them. Seeing them always on the higher plane of human things, men of business believe them incapable of descending to the infinitely petty details which (like the dividends of finance and the microscopic facts of science) go to equalize capital and to form the worlds. They are mistaken! The man of honor and of genius sees all. Bongrand, piqued by the doctor's silence, but impelled by a sense of Ursula's interests which he thought endangered, resolved to defend her against the heirs. He was wretched at not knowing what was taking place between the old man and Dionis.
    "No matter how pure and innocent Ursula may be," he thought as he looked at her, "there is a point on which young girls do make their own law and their own morality. I'll test here. The Minoret-Levraults," he began, settling his spectacles, "might possibly ask you in marriage for their son."
    The poor child turned pale. She was too well trained, and had too much delicacy to listen to what Dionis was saying to her uncle; but after a moment's inward deliberation, she thought she might show herself, and then, if she was in the way, her godfather would let her know it. The Chinese pagoda which the doctor made his study had outside blinds to the glass doors; Ursula invented the excuse of shutting them. She begged Monsieur Bongrand's pardon for leaving him alone in the salon, but he smiled at her and said, "Go! go!"
    Ursula went down the steps of the portico which led to the pagoda at the foot of the garden. She stood for some minutes slowly arranging the blinds and watching the sunset. The doctor and notary were at the end of the terrace, but as they turned she heard the doctor make an answer which reached the pagoda where she was.
    "My heirs would be delighted to see me invest my property in real estate or mortgages; they imagine it would be safer there. I know exactly what they are saying; perhaps you come from them. Let me tell you, my good sir, that my disposition of my property is irrevocably made. My heirs will have the capital I brought here with me; I wish them to know that, and to let me alone. If any one of them attempts to interfere with what I think proper to do for that young girl (pointing to Ursula) I shall come back from the other world and torment him. So, Monsieur Savinien de Portenduere will stay in prison if they count on me to get him out. I shall not sell my property in the Funds."
    Hearing this last fragment of the sentence Ursula experienced the first and only pain which so far had ever touched her. She laid her head against the blind to steady herself.
    "Good God, what is the matter with her?" thought the old doctor. "She has no color; such an emotion after dinner might kill her."
    He went to her with open arms, and she fell into them almost fainting.
    "Adieu, Monsieur," he said to the notary, "please leave us."
    He carried his child to an immense Louis XV. sofa which was in his study, looked for a phial of hartshorn among his remedies, and made her inhale it.
    "Take my place," said the doctor to Bongrand, who was terrified; "I must be alone with her."
    The justice of peace accompanied the notary to the gate, asking him, but without showing any eagerness, what was the matter with Ursula.
    "I don't know," replied Dionis. "She was standing by the pagoda, listening to us, and just as her uncle (so-called) refused to lend some money at my request to young de Portenduere who is in prison for debt,—for he has not had, like Monsieur du Rouvre, a Monsieur Bongrand to defend him,—she turned pale and staggered. Can she love him? Is there anything between them?"
    "At fifteen years of age? pooh!" replied Bongrand.
    "She was born in February, 1813; she'll be sixteen in four months."
    "I don't believe she ever saw him," said the judge. "No, it is only a