ed
horse. Chupin called him. "Come here, my little fellow," said he.

The child rose, and timidly approached, his eyes dilating with distrust
and astonishment. The poor boy's repulsive uncleanliness was a terrible
charge against the mother. Did she no longer love her own offspring? The
untidiness of sorrow and poverty has its bounds. A long time must have
passed since the child's face and hands had been washed, and his soiled
clothes were literally falling to rags. Still, he was a handsome little
fellow, and seemed fairly intelligent, in spite of his bashfulness.
He was very light-haired, and in features he was extremely like M. de
Coralth. Chupin took him on his knees, and, after looking to see if the
door communicating with the inner room were securely closed, he asked:
"What's your name, little chap?"

"Paul."

"Do you know your father?"

"No."

"Doesn't your mother ever talk to you about him?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And what does she say?"

"That he's rich--very rich."

"And what else?"

The child did not reply; perhaps his mother had forbidden him to
say anything on the subject--perhaps that instinct which precedes
intelligence, just as the dawn precedes daylight, warned him to be
prudent with a stranger. "Doesn't your papa ever come to see you?"
insisted Chupin.

"Never."

"Why?"

"Mamma is very poor."

"And wouldn't you like to go and see him?"

"I don't know. But he'll come some day, and take us away with him to a
large house. We shall be all right, then; and he will give us a deal of
money and pretty dresses, and I shall have plenty of toys."

Satisfied on this point, Chupin, pushed his investigations farther.
"And do you know this old gentleman who is with your mamma in the other
room?"

"Oh, yes!--that's Mouchon."

"And who's Mouchon?"

"He's the gentleman who owns that beautiful garden at the corner of the
Rue Riquet, where there are such splendid grapes. I'm going with him to
get some."

"Does he often come to see you?"

"Every evening. He always has goodies in his pocket for mamma and me."

"Why does he sit in that back room without any light?"

"Oh, he says that the customers mustn't see him."

It would have been an abominable act to continue this examination, and
make this child the innocent accuser of his own mother. Chupin felt
conscience-smitten even now. So he kissed the cleanest spot he could
find on the boy's face, and set him on the floor again, saying, "Go and
play."