"Are you not making a mistake ?" The Counsellor gave a quiet smile of triumph.
"I am not mistaken," said he, and calmly pointed out in the code the provision to which he had alluded.

As Diana read the passage to which his finger pointed, he watched her as a cat watches a mouse.
"After all, what does it matter to me ?" remarked Diana, making an effort to recover herself.

"I will speak about this poor woman's case to my father;" and, with her limbs bending under her, she left the room.
As Daumon returned from accompanying her to the door, the Counsellor rubbed his hands.
"Things are getting decidedly warm," muttered he.
He felt that he must gain some further information, and this he could not get from Norbert.

It would be also as well, he thought, to tell the sheriff to stay proceedings relative to the Widow Rouleau.

By this means he might secure another interview with Mademoiselle de Laurebourg, and perhaps win the poor girl's confidence.
As Diana rode home, she abandoned herself to the grief which the intelligence that she had just heard had caused her, for the foresight of the framers of the law had rendered all her deeply laid plans of no avail.
"The Duke of Champdoce," murmured she to herself, "will never consent to his son's marriage with so scantily a dowered woman as I am; but as soon as Norbert is of age he can marry me, in spite of all his father's opposition; but, oh! 'tis a dreary time to wait." For a moment she dared to think of the possible death of the old man; but she shuddered as she remembered how strong and healthy he was, and felt that the frail edifice of her hope had been crushed into ten thousand atoms.