so long lost sight, Frederic
Lemercier. Frederic had breakfasted with Alain,--a breakfast such as
might have contented the author of the "Almanach des Gourmands," and
provided from the cafe Anglais. Frederic has just thrown aside his
regalia.

"Pardieu! my dear Alain. If Louvier has no sinister object in the
generosity of his dealings with you, he will have raised himself
prodigiously in my estimation. I shall forsake, in his favour, my
allegiance to Duplessis, though that clever fellow has just made a
wondrous coup in the Egyptians, and I gain forty thousand francs by
having followed his advice. But if Duplessis has a head as long as
Louvier's, he certainly has not an equal greatness of soul. Still, my
dear friend, will you pardon me if I speak frankly, and in the way of a
warning homily?"

"Speak; you cannot oblige me more."

"Well, then, I know that you can no more live at Paris in the way you
are doing, or mean to do, without some fresh addition to your income,
than a lion could live in the Jardin des Plantes upon an allowance of
two mice a week."

"I don't see that. Deducting what I pay to my aunt,--and I cannot get
her to take more than six thousand francs a year,--I have seven hundred
napoleons left, net and clear. My rooms and stables are equipped, and
I have twenty-five hundred francs in hand. On seven hundred napoleons
a year, I calculate that I can very easily live as I do; and if I
fail--well, I must return to Pochebriant. Seven hundred napoleons a year
will be a magnificent rental there."

Frederic shook his head. "You do not know how one expense leads to
another. Above all, you do not calculate the chief part of one's
expenditure,--the unforeseen. You will play at the Jockey Club, and lose
half your income in a night."

"I shall never touch a card."

"So you say now, innocent as a lamb of the force of example. At all
events, beau seigneur, I presume you are not going to resuscitate the
part of the Ermite de la Chaussee d'Antin; and the fair Parisiennes are
demons of extravagance."

"Demons whom I shall not court."

"Did I say you would? They will court you. Before another month has
flown you will be inundated with billets-doux."

"It is not a shower that will devastate my humble harvest. But, mon
cher, we are falling upon very gloomy topics. Laissez-moi tranquille in
my illusions, if illusions they be. Ah, you cannot conceive what a new
life opens to the man who, like myself, has passed the