The fever was again coming upon her. She began to wander in her
speech.

Mr. Soher, at a sign from the mother, who had followed him into the
room, withdrew.

His brain was on fire. His heart was full of the deepest and keenest
anguish.

"What have I done?" he muttered. "I wanted to be thought a saint.
Not being one, I acted the hypocrite. Now, here I am, maimed,
afflicted, weighed down with grief."

He reached his home--a wreck.

A few days afterwards, poor Tom's body was buried in the churchyard.

From that day, life at the "Prenoms" was completely changed.

Mr. Soher examined himself and his surroundings.

He saw that he was drifting towards bankruptcy. He resolved--he did
more--he went to work, to try and avert the catastrophe. He
succeeded in all that he undertook, for he worked with a will.

His lost son was not brought back to life, neither was the land
which he had sold redeemed, but he managed to supply his wants and
those of his family, besides putting something by for a rainy day.

CHAPTER XXIX.

DOMESTIC HAPPINESS.

They had had a hard day's work at "Les Marches," packing tomatoes
for the English markets.

It was the month of September. The days were growing short and the
nights long.

After the day's occupations were over, the family assembled in the
neatly furnished parlour. Frank wrote his letters of advice to his
fruit merchants. Then he took a German book, "Hauff's stories," and
proceeded to read the diverting history of "Little Mudj," making
frequent use of the vocabulary.

Afterwards, to relax his mind, he took a French book. It was one of
the works of Blaise Pascal, his "Lettres Provinciales." He admired
their originality, the trenchant satire, and the galling blows of
this man whom Chateaubriand called a "frightful genius."

As he read the beautiful passages which had issued from this great
man's mind, he became imbued with some of the flame that had
inspired the author of the book.

He placed the volume on the table, rested his head upon his hand and
began to think of his past life.

He thought of his ambition to acquire riches, and of how he had been
deceived. Providence had ordered otherwise and baffled him.

He was very well off now, but how differently from what he had
anticipated, he had acquired his present position.

He thought of his mental sufferings, the acute brain, the
deep-seated ambition torturing him.

He no longer asked himself why he had endur