"Be easy," returned Mascarin; "we will quickly remove this young woman
from our road."

"Good; but do not be too confident," answered Hortebise, in his usual
tone. "The danger from her is not the one you think, and which you are
trying to avoid. You think Paul loves her. You are wrong. He would drop
her to-morrow, so that he could please his self-indulgence. But the
woman who thinks that she hates her lover often deceives herself; and
Rose is simply tired of poverty. Give her a little amount of comfort,
good living, and luxury, and you will see her give them all up to come
back to Paul. Yes, I tell you, she will harass and annoy him, as women
of her class who have nothing to love always do. She will even go to
Flavia to claim him."

"She had better not," retorted Mascarin, in threatening accents.

"Why, how could you prevent it? She has known Paul from his infancy. She
knew his mother; she was perhaps brought up by her, perhaps even lived
in the same street. Look out, I say, for danger from that quarter."

"You may be right, and I will take my precautions."

It was sufficient for Mascarin to be assured of a danger to find means
of warding it off.

"My second 'but,'" continued Hortebise, "is the idea of the mysterious
protector of whom the young man spoke. His mother, he says, has reason
to know that his father is dead, and I believe in the truth of the
statement. In this case, what has become of the person who paid Madame
Violaine her allowance?"