would never have pressed his money upon me. I am honest and
hard-working; and if the jeweller had given me time, I should never have
been under the obligation to the old monster, of which he avails himself
to seek to dishonour my child. I should not then have left her a single
hour within his power; but I dare not remove her,--I dare not! For am I
not at his mercy? Oh, want! oh, misery! What insults do they not make us
endure!"

"But what can you do?" asked Madeleine. "You know he threatens Louise
that if she quits him he will put you in prison directly."

"Oh, yes! He dares address her as though she were the very vilest of
creatures."

"Well, you must not mind that; for should she leave the notary, there is
no doubt he would instantly throw you into prison, and then what would
become of me, with these five helpless creatures and my mother? Suppose
Louise did earn twenty francs a month in another place, do you think
seven persons can live on that?"

"And so that we may live, Louise is to be disgraced and left to ruin?"

"You always make things out worse than they are. It is true the notary
makes offers of love to Louise; she has told us so repeatedly. But then
you know what a good girl she is; she would never listen to him."

"She is good, indeed; and so right-minded, active, and industrious!
When, seeing how badly we were off in consequence of your long illness,
she insisted upon going to service that she might not be a burthen to
us, did I not say what it cost me to part with her? To think of my sweet
Louise being subjected to all the harshness and humiliation of a
servant's life,--she who was naturally so proud that we used
jokingly--ah, we could joke then!--to call her the Princess, because she
always said that, by dint of care and cleanliness, she would make our
little home like a palace! Dear Louise! It would have been my greatest
happiness to have kept her with me, though I had worked all day and all
night too. And when I saw her blooming face, with her bright eyes
glancing at me as she sat beside my work-table, my labour always seemed
lightened; and when she sung like a bird those little songs she knew I
liked to hear, I used to fancy myself the happiest father alive. Poor
dear Louise! so hard-working, yet always so gay and lively! Why, she
could even manage your mother, and make her do whatever she wished. But
I defy any one to resist her sweet words or winning smile. And how she
watched over and waited