nsent, then?"

"Certainly."

Here the Venosta, who had been listening with great attention to
Louvier's commendation of this investment, drew him aside, and whispered
in his ear: "I suppose, M. Louvier, that one can't put a little money-a
very little money--poco-poco pocolino, into your street."

"Into my street! Ah, I understand--into the speculation of the Rue de
Louvier! Certainly you can. Arrangements are made on purpose to suit the
convenience of the smallest capitalists--from 500 francs upwards."

"And you feel quite sure that we shall double our money when the street
is completed--I should not like to have my brains in my heels."

["'Avere il cervello nella calcagna,"--viz., to act without prudent
reflection.]

"More than double it, I hope, long before the street is completed."

"I have saved a little money--very little. I have no relations, and I
mean to leave it all to the Signorina; and if it could be doubled, why,
there would be twice as much to leave her."

"So there would," said Louvier. "You can't do better than put it all
into the Rue de Louvier. I will send you the necessary papers to-morrow,
when I send hers to the Signorina."

Louvier here turned to address himself to Colonel Morley, but finding
that degenerate son of America indisposed to get cent. per cent. for his
money when offered by a Parisian, he very soon took his leave. The other
visitors followed his example, except Rameau, who was left alone with
the Venosta and Isaura. The former had no liking for Rameau, who showed
her none of the attentions her innocent vanity demanded, and she soon
took herself off to her own room to calculate the amount of her savings,
and dream of the Rue de Louvier and "golden joys."

Rameau approaching his chair to Isaura's then commenced conversation,
drily enough, upon pecuniary matters; acquitting himself of the mission
with which De Mauleon had charged him, the request for a new work from
her pen for the Sens Commun, and the terms that ought to be asked for
compliance. The young lady-author shrank from this talk. Her private
income, though modest, sufficed for her wants, and she felt a sensitive
shame in the sale of her thoughts and fancies.

Putting hurriedly aside the mercantile aspect of the question, she said
that she had no other work in her mind at present--that, whatever her
vein of invention might be, it flowed at its own will, and could not be
commanded.

"Nay," said Rameau, "this is