to your Turks, stick to your
stable-boy, go to the devil in general in your own way and be done with
it. But don't ratiocinate with me--I cannot bear it. And so, ta-ta. I
might as well have stayed away for any good I've done. Say good-bye from
me to Stasie, and to the sullen hang-dog of a stable-boy, if you insist
on it; I'm off."

And Casimir departed. The Doctor, that night, dissected his character
before Anastasie. "One thing, my beautiful," he said, "he has learned one
thing from his lifelong acquaintance with your husband: the word
_ratiocinate_. It shines in his vocabulary like a jewel in a muck-heap.
And, even so, he continually misapplies it. For you must have observed he
uses it as a sort of taunt, in the sense of _to ergotise_, implying, as
it were--the poor, dear fellow!--a vein of sophistry. As for his cruelty
to Jean-Marie, it must be forgiven him--it is not his nature, it is the
nature of his life. A man who deals with money, my dear, is a man lost."

With Jean-Marie the process of reconciliation had been somewhat slow. At
first he was inconsolable, insisted on leaving the family, went from
paroxysm to paroxysm of tears; and it was only after Anastasie had been
closeted for an hour with him, alone, that she came forth, sought out the
Doctor, and, with tears in her eyes, acquainted that gentleman with what
had passed.

"At first, my husband, he would hear of nothing," she said. "Imagine! if
he had left us! what would the treasure be to that? Horrible treasure, it
has brought all this about! At last, after he has sobbed his very heart
out, he agrees to stay on a condition--we are not to mention this matter,
this infamous suspicion, not even to mention the robbery. On that
agreement only, the poor, cruel boy will consent to remain among his
friends."

"But this inhibition," said the Doctor, "this embargo--it cannot possibly
apply to me?"

"To all of us," Anastasie assured him.

"My cherished one," Desprez protested, "you must have misunderstood. It
cannot apply to me. He would naturally come to me."

"Henri," she said, "it does; I swear to you it does."

"This is a painful, a very painful circumstance," the Doctor said,
looking a little black. "I cannot affect, Anastasie, to be anything but
justly wounded. I feel this--I feel it, my wife, acutely."

"I knew you would," she said. "But if you had seen his distress! We must
make allowances, we must sacrifice our feelings."

"I trust, my dear, you hav