Ursula

"Massin would buy the whole for two hundred thousand francs."
    "Leave us, wife," said the colossus, taking Zelie by the arm, and shoving her away; "I understand him. We have been so very busy," he continued, returning to Goupil, "that we have had no time to think of you; but I rely on your friendship to buy the Rouvre estate for me."
    "It is a very ancient marquisate," said Goupil, maliciously; "which will soon be worth in your hands fifty thousand francs a year; that means a capital of more than two millions as money is now."
    "My son could then marry the daughter of a marshal of France, or the daughter of some old family whose influence would get him a fine place under the government in Paris," said Minoret, opening his huge snuff-box and offering a pinch to Goupil.
    "Very good; but will you play fair?" cried Goupil, shaking his fingers.
    Minoret pressed the clerk's hands replying:—
    "On my word of honor."

CHAPTER XVII. THE MALIGNITY OF PROVINCIAL MINDS
    Like all crafty persons, Goupil, fortunately for Minoret, believed that the proposed marriage with Ursula was only a pretext on the part of the colossus and Zelie for making up with him, now that he was opposing them with Massin.
    "It isn't he," thought Goupil, "who has invented this scheme; I know my Zelie,—she taught him his part. Bah! I'll let Massin go. In three years time I'll be deputy from Sens." Just then he saw Bongrand on his way to the opposite house for his whist, and he rushed hastily after him.
    "You take a great interest in Mademoiselle Mirouet, my dear Monsieur Bongrand," he said. "I know you will not be indifferent to her future. Her relations are considering it, and there is the programme; she ought to marry a notary whose practice should be in the chief town of an arrondisement. This notary, who would of course be elected deputy in three years, should settle on a dower of a hundred thousand francs on her."
    "She can do better than that," said Bongrand coldly. "Madame de Portenduere is greatly changed since her misfortunes; trouble is killing her. Savinien will have six thousand francs a year, and Ursula has a capital of forty thousand. I shall show them how to increase it a la Massin, but honestly, and in ten years they will have a little fortune.
    "Savinien will do a foolish thing," said Goupil; "he can marry Mademoiselle du Rouvre whenever he likes,—an only daughter to whom the uncle and aunt intend to leave a fine property."
    "Where love enters farewell prudence, as La Fontaine says—By the bye, who is your notary?" added Bongrand from curiosity.
    "Suppose it were I?" answered Goupil.
    "You!" exclaimed Bongrand, without hiding his disgust.
    "Well, well!—Adieu, monsieur," replied Goupil, with a parting glance of gall and hatred and defiance.
    "Do you wish to be the wife of a notary who will settle a hundred thousand francs on you?" cried Bongrand entering Madame de Portenduere's little salon, where Ursula was seated beside the old lady.
    Ursula and Savinien trembled and looked at each other,—she smiling, he not daring to show his uneasiness.
    "I am not mistress of myself," said Ursula, holding out her hand to Savinien in such a way that the old lady did not perceive the gesture.
    "Well, I have refused the offer without consulting you."
    "Why did you do that?" said Madame de Portenduere. "I think the position of a notary is a very good one."
    "I prefer my peaceful poverty," said Ursula, "which is really wealth compared with what my station in life might have given me. Besides, my old nurse spares me a great deal of care, and I shall not exchange the present, which I like, for an unknown fate."
    A few weeks later the post poured into two hearts the poison of anonymous letters,—one addressed to Madame de Portenduere, the other to Ursula. The following is the one to the old lady:—
      "You love your son, you wish to marry him in a manner conformable
  with the name he bears; and yet you encourage his fancy for an
  ambitious girl without money and the daughter of a regimental
  band-master, by inviting her to your house. You ought to marry him
  to Mademoiselle du Rouvre, on whom her two uncles, the Marquis de
  Ronquerolles and the Chevalier du Rouvre, who are worth money, would
  settle a handsome sum rather than leave it to that old fool the
  Marquis du Rouvre, who runs through everything. Madame de Serizy,
  aunt of Clementine du Rouvre, who has just lost her only son in the
  campaign in Algiers, will no doubt adopt