s "little quantity" slid from the pen to the page, Narcisse had
felt himself betrothed to it by destiny, and hourly supplicated the
awful fates to frown not upon the amorous hopes of him unaugmented.
Richling descended upon him once or twice and tore away from his embrace
small fractions of the coveted treasure, choosing, through a diffidence
which he mistook for a sort of virtue, the time of day when he would not
see Dr. Sevier; and at the third visitation took the entire golden
fleece away with him rather than encounter again the always more or less
successful courtship of the scorner of loans.

A faithful suitor, however, was not thus easily shaken off. Narcisse
became a frequent visitor at the Richlings', where he never mentioned
money; that part was left to moments of accidental meeting with Richling
in the street, which suddenly began to occur at singularly short
intervals.

Mary labored honestly and arduously to dislike him--to hold a repellent
attitude toward him. But he was too much for her. It was easy enough
when he was absent; but one look at his handsome face, so rife with
animal innocence, and despite herself she was ready to reward his
displays of sentiment and erudition with laughter that, mean what it
might, always pleased and flattered him.

"Can you help liking him?" she would ask John. "I can't, to save my
life!"

Had the treasure been earnings, Richling said--and believed--he could
firmly have repelled Narcisse's importunities. But coldly to withhold an
occasional modest heave-offering of that which was the free bounty of
another to him was more than he could do.

"But," said Mary, straightening his cravat, "you intend to pay up, and
he--you don't think I'm uncharitable, do you?"

"I'd rather give my last cent than think you so," replied John.
"Still,"--laying the matter before her with both open hands,--"if you
say plainly not to give him another cent I'll do as you say. The money's
no more mine than yours."

"Well, you can have all my share," said Mary, pleasantly.

So the weeks passed and the hoard dwindled.

"What has it got down to, now?" asked John, frowningly, on more than one
morning as he was preparing to go out. And Mary, who had been made
treasurer, could count it at a glance without taking it out of her
purse.

One evening, when Narcisse called, he found no one at home but Mrs.
Riley. The infant Mike had been stuffed with rice and milk and laid away
to slumber. The Richlings