raight. "I hope you understand"--

"Mistoo Itchlin, 'tis baw'd money. If you had a necessity faw it you
would use it. If a fwend 'ave a necessity--'tis anotheh thing--you don't
feel that libbetty--you ah 'ight--I honoh you"--

"I _don't_ feel the same liberty."

"Mistoo Itchlin," said Narcisse, with noble generosity, throwing himself
a half step forward, "if it was yoze you'd baw' it to me in a minnit!"
He smiled with benign delight. "Well, madame,--I bid you good evening,
Misses Itchlin. The bes' of fwen's muz pawt, you know." He turned again
to Richling with a face all beauty and a form all grace. "I was juz
sitting--mistfully--all at once I says to myseff, 'Faw distwaction
I'll go an' see Mistoo Itchlin.' I don't _know_ 'ow I juz
'appen'!-- Well, _au 'evo'_, Mistoo Itchlin."

Richling followed him out upon the door-step. There Narcisse intimated
that even twenty dollars for a few days would supply a stern want. And
when Richling was compelled again to refuse, Narcisse solicited his
company as far as the next corner. There the Creole covered him with
shame by forcing him to refuse the loan of ten dollars, and then of
five.

It was a full hour before Richling rejoined his wife. Mrs. Riley had
stepped off to some neighbor's door with Mike on her arm. Mary was on
the sidewalk.

"John," she said, in a low voice, and with a long anxious look.

"What?"

"He _didn't_ take the only dollar of your own in the world?"

"Mary, what could I do? It seemed a crime to give, and a crime not to
give. He cried like a child; said it was all a sham about his dinner and
his _robe de chambre_. An aunt, two little cousins, an aged uncle at
home--and not a cent in the house! What could I do? He says he'll return
it in three days."

"And"--Mary laughed distressfully--"you believed him?" She looked at him
with an air of tender, painful admiration, half way between a laugh and
a cry.

"Come, sit down," he said, sinking upon the little wooden buttress at
one side of the door-step.

Tears sprang into her eyes. She shook her head.

"Let's go inside." And in there she told him sincerely, "No, no, no; she
didn't think he had done wrong"--when he knew he had.

CHAPTER XXIII.

WEAR AND TEAR.

The arrangement for Dr. Sevier to place the loan of fifty dollars on his
own books at Richling's credit naturally brought Narcisse into relation
with it.

It was a case of love at first sight. From the moment the record of
Richling'