her's bills, will rescue us from want."

"Valerie," replied Marneffe, assuming an attitude like Crevel, "I hope
that Monsieur le Baron Hulot will take proper charge of his son, and
not lay the burden on a poor clerk. I intend to keep him well up to the
mark. So take the necessary steps, madame! Get him to write you letters
in which he alludes to his satisfaction, for he is rather backward in
coming forward in regard to my appointment."

And Marneffe went away to the office, where his chief's precious
leniency allowed him to come in at about eleven o'clock. And, indeed,
he did little enough, for his incapacity was notorious, and he detested
work.

No sooner were they alone than Lisbeth and Valerie looked at each other
for a moment like Augurs, and both together burst into a loud fit of
laughter.

"I say, Valerie--is it the fact?" said Lisbeth, "or merely a farce?"

"It is a physical fact!" replied Valerie. "Now, I am sick and tired
of Hortense; and it occurred to me in the night that I might fire this
infant, like a bomb, into the Steinbock household."

Valerie went back to her room, followed by Lisbeth, to whom she showed
the following letter:--

"WENCESLAS MY DEAR,--I still believe in your love, though it is
nearly three weeks since I saw you. Is this scorn? Delilah can
scarcely believe that. Does it not rather result from the tyranny
of a woman whom, as you told me, you can no longer love?
Wenceslas, you are too great an artist to submit to such dominion.
Home is the grave of glory.--Consider now, are you the Wenceslas
of the Rue du Doyenne? You missed fire with my father's statue;
but in you the lover is greater than the artist, and you have had
better luck with his daughter. You are a father, my beloved
Wenceslas.

"If you do not come to me in the state I am in, your friends would
think very badly of you. But I love you so madly, that I feel I
should never have the strength to curse you. May I sign myself as
ever,

"YOUR VALERIE."

"What do you say to my scheme for sending this note to the studio at a
time when our dear Hortense is there by herself?" asked Valerie. "Last
evening I heard from Stidmann that Wenceslas is to pick him up at eleven
this morning to go on business to Chanor's; so that gawk Hortense will
be there alone."

"But after such a trick as that," replied Lisbeth, "I cannot continue to
be your friend in the eyes of the world; I shall have to break with y