s signature,
saw that the stamp would suffice for a larger sum, altered the figures,
made it into a regular bill for twelve thousand francs, payable to
Goriot's order, and went to his neighbor's room.

"Here is the money, madame," he said, handing the piece of paper to her.
"I was asleep; your conversation awoke me, and by this means I learned
all that I owed to M. Goriot. This bill can be discounted, and I shall
meet it punctually at the due date."

The Countess stood motionless and speechless, but she held the bill in
her fingers.

"Delphine," she said, with a white face, and her whole frame quivering
with indignation, anger, and rage, "I forgave you everything; God is my
witness that I forgave you, but I cannot forgive this! So this gentleman
was there all the time, and you knew it! Your petty spite has let you
to wreak your vengeance on me by betraying my secrets, my life, my
children's lives, my shame, my honor! There, you are nothing to me any
longer. I hate you. I will do all that I can to injure you. I will..."

Anger paralyzed her; the words died in her dry parched throat.

"Why, he is my son, my child; he is your brother, your preserver!" cried
Goriot. "Kiss his hand, Nasie! Stay, I will embrace him myself," he
said, straining Eugene to his breast in a frenzied clasp. "Oh my boy! I
will be more than a father to you; if I had God's power, I would fling
worlds at your feet. Why don't you kiss him, Nasie? He is not a man, but
an angel, a angel out of heaven."

"Never mind her, father; she is mad just now."

"Mad! am I? And what are you?" cried Mme. de Restaud.

"Children, children, I shall die if you go on like this," cried the
old man, and he staggered and fell on the bed as if a bullet had struck
him.--"They are killing me between them," he said to himself.

The Countess fixed her eyes on Eugene, who stood stock still; all his
faculties were numbed by this violent scene.

"Sir?..." she said, doubt and inquiry in her face, tone, and bearing;
she took no notice now of her father nor of Delphine, who was hastily
unfastening his waistcoat.

"Madame," said Eugene, answering the question before it was asked, "I
will meet the bill, and keep silence about it."

"You have killed our father, Nasie!" said Delphine, pointing to Goriot,
who lay unconscious on the bed. The Countess fled.

"I freely forgive her," said the old man, opening his eyes; "her
position is horrible; it would turn an older head than her