to say that this piece of knavery brought me in an enormous sum, and that I used Rochecotte's, Kervaulieu's, and Coralth's names in betting against my own horse."

The baron's agitation was so great that M. de Valorsay observed it, though he did not understand the cause. Living in the same society with the Baroness Trigault, and knowing her story, he thought that Coralth's name might, perhaps, have irritated the baron. "And so," he quickly continued, "don't be surprised if, during the coming week, you see the sale of my horses announced."

"What! you are going to sell----"

"All my horses--yes, baron. I have nineteen; and it will be very strange if I don't get eight or ten thousand louis for the lot. Domingo alone is worth more than forty thousand francs."

To talk of selling--of realizing something you possess--rings ominously in people's ears. The person who talks of selling proclaims his need of money--and often his approaching ruin. "It will save you at least a hundred and fifty or sixty thousand francs a year," observed the baron.

"Double it and you won't come up to the mark. Ah! my dear baron, you have yet to learn that there is nothing so ruinous as a racing stable. It's worse than gambling; and women, in comparison, are a real economy. Ninette costs me less than Domingo, with his jockey, his trainer, and his grooms. My manager declares that the twenty-three thousand francs I won last year, cost me at least fifty thousand."

Was he boasting, or was he speaking the truth? The baron was engaged in a rapid calculation. "What does Valorsay spend a year?" he was saying to himself. "Let us say two hundred and fifty thousand francs for his stable; forty thousand francs for Ninette Simplon; eighty thousand for his household expenses, and at least thirty thousand for personal matters, travelling, and play. All this amounts to something like four hundred and thirty thousand francs a year. Does his income equal that sum? Certainly not. Then he must have been living on the principal--he is ruined."

Meanwhile the marquis gayly continued: "You see, I'm going to make a change in my mode of life. Ah! it surprises you! But one must make an end of it, sooner or later. I begin to find a bachelor life not so very pleasant after all; there is rheumatism in prospect, and my digestion is becoming impaired--in short, I feel that it is time for marriage, baron; and--I am about to marry."

"You!"

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