s I do that when a man has an income of
a hundred thousand francs his father has _never failed_." So saying, he
politely edged Monsieur des Grassins to the door.

* * * * *

At the beginning of August in the same year, Eugenie was sitting on the
little wooden bench where her cousin had sworn to love her eternally,
and where she usually breakfasted if the weather were fine. The poor
girl was happy, for the moment, in the fresh and joyous summer air,
letting her memory recall the great and the little events of her love
and the catastrophes which had followed it. The sun had just reached
the angle of the ruined wall, so full of chinks, which no one, through
a caprice of the mistress, was allowed to touch, though Cornoiller often
remarked to his wife that "it would fall and crush somebody one of these
days." At this moment the postman knocked, and gave a letter to Madame
Cornoiller, who ran into the garden, crying out:

"Mademoiselle, a letter!" She gave it to her mistress, adding, "Is it
the one you expected?"

The words rang as loudly in the heart of Eugenie as they echoed in sound
from wall to wall of the court and garden.

"Paris--from him--he has returned!"

Eugenie turned pale and held the letter for a moment. She trembled
so violently that she could not break the seal. La Grande Nanon stood
before her, both hands on her hips, her joy puffing as it were like
smoke through the cracks of her brown face.

"Read it, mademoiselle!"

"Ah, Nanon, why did he return to Paris? He went from Saumur."

"Read it, and you'll find out."

Eugenie opened the letter with trembling fingers. A cheque on the house
of "Madame des Grassins and Coret, of Saumur," fluttered down. Nanon
picked it up.

My dear Cousin,--

"No longer 'Eugenie,'" she thought, and her heart quailed.

You--

"He once said 'thou.'" She folded her arms and dared not read another
word; great tears gathered in her eyes.

"Is he dead?" asked Nanon.

"If he were, he could not write," said Eugenie.

She then read the whole letter, which was as follows:

My dear Cousin,--You will, I am sure, hear with pleasure of the
success of my enterprise. You brought me luck; I have come back
rich, and I have followed the advice of my uncle, whose death,
together with that of my aunt, I have just learned from Monsieur
des Grassins. The death of parents is in the course of nature, and
we must succeed them. I trust you a