ess.

At times he was capable of doing almost anything to gratify his lust for
gold, for the privations which he had endured so long were like oil cast
upon the flame of covetousness which was ever burning in his breast. In
calmer moments he asked himself at what other door he could knock,
in view of hastening the arrival of Fortune. Sometimes he thought of
turning dentist, or of trying to find some capitalist who would join him
in manufacturing one of those patent medicines which are warranted
to yield their promoters a hundred thousand francs a year. On other
occasions he dreamed of establishing a monster pharmacy, or of opening
a private hospital. But money was needed to carry out any one of these
plans, and he had no money. There was the rub. However the time was fast
approaching when he must decide upon his course; he could not possibly
hold out much longer.

His third year of practice in the Rue de Courcelles had not yielded him
enough to pay his servant's wages. For he had a servant, of course.
He had a valet for the same reason as he had a suite of rooms of a
superficially sumptuous aspect. Faithful to his system, or, rather, to
his master's system, he had sacrificed everything to show. The display
of gilding in his apartments was such as to make a man of taste shut
his eyes to escape the sight of it. There were gorgeous carpets and
hangings, frescoed ceilings, spurious objects of virtu, and pier-tables
loaded with ornaments. An unsophisticated youth from the country would
certainly have been dazzled; but it would not do to examine these things
too closely. There was more cotton than silk in the velvet covering of
the furniture; and if various statuettes placed on brackets at a certain
height had been closely inspected, it would have been found that they
were of mere plaster, hidden beneath a coating of green paint, sprinkled
with copper filings. This plaster, playing the part of bronze, was in
perfect keeping with the man, his system, and the present age.

When the doctor reached home, his first question to his servant was as
usual: "Has any one called?"

"No one."

The doctor sighed, and passing through his superb waiting-room, he
entered his consulting sanctum, and seated himself in the chimney corner
beside an infinitesimal fire. He was even more thoughtful than usual.
The scene which he had just witnessed at the Count de Chalusse's house
recurred to his mind, and he turned it over and over again in his