nd virtue.

"Why, you are as cold as a paving-stone in winter!" she exclaimed in
amazement. "Come, now. You will make a whole family happy--a grandfather
who runs all the errands, a mother who is being worn out with work,
and two sisters--one of them very plain--who make thirty-two sous a day
while putting their eyes out. It will make up for the misery you have
caused at home, and you will expiate your sin while you are having as
much fun as a minx at Mabille."

Hulot, to put an end to this temptation, moved his fingers as if he were
counting out money.

"Oh! be quite easy as to ways and means," replied Josepha. "My Duke will
lend you ten thousand francs; seven thousand to start an embroidery
shop in Bijou's name, and three thousand for furnishing; and every three
months you will find a cheque here for six hundred and fifty francs.
When you get your pension paid you, you can repay the seventeen thousand
francs. Meanwhile you will be as happy as a cow in clover, and hidden in
a hole where the police will never find you. You must wear a loose serge
coat, and you will look like a comfortable householder. Call yourself
Thoul, if that is your fancy. I will tell Bijou that you are an uncle
of mine come from Germany, having failed in business, and you will be
cosseted like a divinity.--There now, Daddy!--And who knows! you may
have no regrets. In case you should be bored, keep one Sunday rig-out,
and you can come and ask me for a dinner and spend the evening here."

"I!--and I meant to settle down and behave myself!--Look here, borrow
twenty thousand francs for me, and I will set out to make my fortune in
America, like my friend d'Aiglemont when Nucingen cleaned him out."

"You!" cried Josepha. "Nay, leave morals to work-a-day folks, to raw
recruits, to the _worrrthy_ citizens who have nothing to boast of
but their virtue. You! You were born to be something better than a
nincompoop; you are as a man what I am as a woman--a spendthrift of
genius."

"We will sleep on it and discuss it all to-morrow morning."

"You will dine with the Duke. My d'Herouville will receive you as
civilly as if you were the saviour of the State; and to-morrow you can
decide. Come, be jolly, old boy! Life is a garment; when it is dirty, we
must brush it; when it is ragged, it must be patched; but we keep it on
as long as we can."

This philosophy of life, and her high spirits, postponed Hulot's keenest
pangs.

At noon next day, after a capita