med to have somewhat
mollified, was aggravated by this disappointment of her hopes. Lisbeth
went, crying with rage, to Madame Marneffe; for she was homeless, the
Marshal having agreed that his lease was at any time to terminate with
his life. Crevel, to console Valerie's friend, took charge of her
savings, added to them considerably, and invested the capital in five
per cents, giving her the life interest, and putting the securities
into Celestine's name. Thanks to this stroke of business, Lisbeth had
an income of about two thousand francs.

When the Marshal's property was examined and valued, a note was found,
addressed to his sister-in-law, to his niece Hortense, and to his
nephew Victorin, desiring that they would pay among them an annuity of
twelve hundred francs to Mademoiselle Lisbeth Fischer, who was to have
been his wife.

Adeline, seeing her husband between life and death, succeeded for some
days in hiding from him the fact of his brother's death; but Lisbeth
came, in mourning, and the terrible truth was told him eleven days
after the funeral.

The crushing blow revived the sick man's energies. He got up, found
his family collected in the drawing-room, all in black, and suddenly
silent as he came in. In a fortnight, Hulot, as lean as a spectre,
looked to his family the mere shadow of himself.

"I must decide on something," said he in a husky voice, as he seated
himself in an easy-chair, and looked round at the party, of whom
Crevel and Steinbock were absent.

"We cannot stay here, the rent is too high," Hortense was saying just
as her father came in.

"As to a home," said Victorin, breaking the painful silence, "I can
offer my mother----"

As he heard these words, which excluded him, the Baron raised his
head, which was sunk on his breast as though he were studying the
pattern of the carpet, though he did not even see it, and he gave the
young lawyer an appealing look. The rights of a father are so
indefeasibly sacred, even when he is a villain and devoid of honor,
that Victorin paused.

"To your mother," the Baron repeated. "You are right, my son."

"The rooms over ours in our wing," said Celestine, finishing her
husband's sentence.

"I am in your way, my dears?" said the Baron, with the mildness of a
man who has judged himself. "But do not be uneasy as to the future;
you will have no further cause for complaint of your father; you will
not see him till the time when you need no longer blush for