He never gave his daughter an instant's peace, he argued, insisted, and bullied until, after three days' contest, Marie gave her assent with a flood of tears.

The word had scarcely passed her lips, before her father, without even thanking her for her terrible sacrifice, exclaimed in a voice of triumph: "I must take these tidings to Champdoce without a moment's delay." He started at once, and as he passed through the doorway said: "Good-by, my little duchess, good-by." He was most desirous of seeing the Duke, for, on taking leave of him, the old nobleman had said, "You shall hear from me to-morrow;" but no letter had as yet reached him from Champdoce.

This delay however, had suited M.de Puymandour's plans, for it had enabled him to wring the consent from his daughter; but now that this had been done, he began to feel very anxious, and to fear that there might be some unforeseen hitch in the affair.
When he reached Bevron, he saw Daumon talking earnestly with Francoise, the daughter of the Widow Rouleau.

M.de Puymandour bowed graciously, and stopped to talk with the man, for he was just now seeking for popularity, as he was a candidate, and the elections would shortly take place; and, besides, he never failed to talk to persons who exercised any degree of influence, and he knew that Daumon was a most useful man in electioneering.
"Good morning, Counsellor," said he gayly.

"What is the news to-day ?" Daumon bowed profoundly.
"Bad news, Count," answered he.