Now the next person who entered the room was the notary himself.  He was a gentleman of manners; he bowed with great gallantry to the ladies, not excepting Celeste.

‘She is a child, and has had no chance to learn the arts of cunning,’ cried the Russian lady, who had thought that she knew the world.

The notary bowed to her in particular.  ’Madam, the true artist is born, not made.’

Then he looked at Celeste again.  There were two kinds of admiration in his glance—­one for her face, the other for her cleverness.  He looked at the weeping husband with no admiration at all, but the purpose in his mind was steady as his clear grey eye, unmoved by emotion.

‘I have taken the trouble to walk so far,’ said he, ’to tell this young man what, perhaps, I ought to have mentioned when he was at my office.  Happily, the evil can be remedied.  It is the law of our land that if the fortune has been misrepresented, a divorce can be obtained.’

Celeste’s courage vanished with her triumph.  She covered her face.  The husband had turned round; he was looking eagerly at the notary and at his cowering bride.

‘Ah, Heaven!’ cried the two matrons, ‘must it be?’

‘I have walked so far to advise,’ said the notary.

All this time Marie was sitting upon the piano-stool; she had turned it half-way round so that she could look at the people.  She was not pretty, but, as the morning light struck full upon her face, she had the comeliness that youth and health always must have; and more than that, there was the light of a beautiful soul shining through her eyes, for Marie was gentle and submissive, but her mind and spirit were also strong; the individual character that had grown in silence now began to assert itself with all the beauty of a new thing in the world.  Marie had never acted for herself before.

She began to speak to the notary simply, eagerly, as one who could no longer keep silence.

‘It would be wrong to separate them, monsieur.’

Madame Verine chid Marie; the notary, no doubt just because he was a man and polite, answered her.

’This brave young fellow does not deserve to be thus fooled.  I shall be glad to lend him my aid to extricate himself.’

‘He does deserve it,’ cried Marie.  ’Long ago he pretended to have love for her, just for the pleasure of it, when he had not—­that is worse than pretending to have money!  And in any case, it is a wicked law, monsieur, that would grant a divorce when they are married, and—­look now—­left to himself he will forgive her, but he is catching at what you say.  You have come here to tempt him!  You dare not go on, monsieur!’

‘Dare not, mademoiselle?’ said the notary, with a superior air.

’No, monsieur.  Think of what the good God and the holy saints would say!  This poor girl has brought much punishment on herself, but—­ah, monsieur, think of the verdict of Heaven!’