ave
forgotten the thing altogether and replaced the money.'

Madame Proquet was aghast at the news.

'So, then,' she ejaculated, 'Henri speculates! He has lost everything,
and that in a gold mine, a hole in the earth, which, instead of
yielding money, swallows up what fools fling into it. After that, how
is it possible to feel any security about him? With all his talent, his
genius, he will end in the poor-house. He talks of expatriating himself
now. He is out of his mind.'

She believed in none but sure investments, and saw no difference
between speculation and gambling. Land, house-property and Government
securities, no other stock had any value in her eyes. She would not for
the world have had anything to do with shares in even the great
railways of her own country. However, in the end she calmed herself.

'He will be prudent in the future,' she said to herself, 'and the
lesson will be a wholesome one. After all, England is not far from
Brittany. I shall see the dear children almost as often as before.'

And seeing Fanchette looking at her, she smiled, but the smile did not
deceive the good woman, who saw clearly that something was being hidden
from her, and that that something concerned Henri. Her eyes filled.

'It is nothing, my dear Fanchette!' said Madame Proquet, making her
faithful servant sit down by her side while she read to her Henri's
letter, and discussed with her its contents.

The painter remained three years in England, and returned to Paris
after having made the conquest of the English public and the Royal
Academy, just as he had made the conquest of the French public and the
Salon.

Mayfair and Belgravia had been painted by Henri Proquet; Fifth Avenue,
New York, now claimed him, and offered him fabulous prices. He set out
for America, and passed two years there. Madame Proquet and Fanchette
both begged him earnestly, in all their letters, to give up these
voyages, and to return to Paris and settle there definitely. 'Have a
little patience, mother dear,' he wrote; 'I shall soon have 1,000,000
francs put by, and then I shall think of nothing but your wishes.' A
few months later he wrote: 'I shall soon have finished my work in
America, and we shall set out from New York to make our longest and
last voyage. We shall cross America to the Californian side: from there
we shall visit Japan, the Pacific Islands, New Zealand, and Australia.
On the way home we shall stop at the Cape of Good Hope to ske