"But, Doctor," cried George, with a moan, "I have never been a
libertine. There was never any one, you understand me, never any one
could have been more careful in his pleasures. If I were to tell you
that in all my life I have only had two mistresses, what would you
answer to that?"

"I would answer, that a single one would have been sufficient to bring
you to me."

"No, sir!" cried George. "It could not have been either of those women."
He went on to tell the doctor about his first mistress, and then about
Lizette. Finally he told about Henriette, how much he adored her. He
could really use such a word--he loved her most tenderly. She was so
good--and he had thought himself so lucky!

As he went on, he could hardly keep from going to pieces. "I had
everything," he exclaimed, "everything a man needed! All who knew me
envied me. And then I had to let those fellows drag me off to that
miserable supper-party! And now here I am! My future is ruined, my whole
existence poisoned! What is to become of me? Everybody will avoid me--I
shall be a pariah, a leper!"

He paused, and then in sudden wild grief exclaimed, "Come, now! Would
it not be better that I should take myself out of the way? At least, I
should not suffer any more. You see that there could not be any one
more unhappy than myself--not any one, I tell you, sir, not any one!"
Completely overcome, he began to weep in his handkerchief.

The doctor got up, and went to him. "You must be a man," he said, "and
not cry like a child."

"But sir," cried the young man, with tears running down his cheeks,
"if I had led a wild life, if I had passed my time in dissipation with
chorus girls, then I could understand it. Then I would say that I had
deserved it."

The doctor exclaimed with emphasis, "No, no! You would not say it.
However, it is of no matter--go on."

"I tell you that I would say it. I am honest, and I would say that I
had deserved it. But no, I have worked, I have been a regular grind. And
now, when I think of the shame that is in store for me, the disgusting
things, the frightful catastrophes to which I am condemned--"

"What is all this you are telling me?" asked the doctor, laughing.

"Oh, I know, I know!" cried the other, and repeated what his friend
had told him about the man in a wheel-chair. "And they used to call me
handsome Raoul! That was my name--handsome Raoul!"

"Now, my dear sir," said the doctor, cheerfully, "wipe your eyes one
last tim