Neufontaine; finally, because the man of money
had naturally great respect for the heir to many millions. So the
youngster had golden rattles and other similar toys, and was brought up
like a young Dauphin. But his father, overwhelmed with business worries,
could never give the child more than fifteen minutes per day of his
precious time--and, as on the day mentioned, it was always during
"cheese"--and for the rest of the day the father abandoned the child to
the care of the servants.

"Good morning, Raoul."

"Good morning, papa."

And the company director, having put his serviette away, sat young Raoul
on his left knee, took the child's head between his big paws, and in
stroking and kissing it actually forgot all his money matters and even
his note of the afternoon, which was of great importance to him, as by
it he could gain quite an important amount of patronage.

"Papa," said little Raoul suddenly, "will Father Christmas put anything
in my shoe tonight?"

The father answered with "Yes, if you are a good child." This was
very striking from a man who was a pronounced freethinker, who always
applauded every anti-clerical attack in the Chamber with a vigorous
"Hear, hear." He made a mental note that he must buy some toys for his
child that very afternoon.

Then he turned to the nursery governess with:

"Are you quite satisfied with Raoul, Mademoiselle Bertha?"

Mademoiselle Bertha became as red as a peony at being addressed, as
if the question were scarcely _comme il faut_, and replied by a little
imbecile snigger, which seemed fully to satisfy M. Godefroy's curiosity
about his son's conduct.

"It's fine to-day," said the financier, "but cold. If you take Raoul to
Monceau Park, mademoiselle, please be careful to wrap him up well."

Mademoiselle, by a second fit of idiotic smiling, having set at rest
M. Godefroy's doubts and fears on that essential point, he kissed his
child, left the room hastily, and in the hall was enveloped in his fur
coat by Charles, who also closed the carriage door. Then the faithful
fellow went off to the cafe which he frequented, Rue de Miromesnil,
where he had promised to meet the coachman of the baroness who lived
opposite, to play a game of billiards, thirty up--and spot-barred, of
course.

*****

Thanks to the brown bay--for which a thousand francs over and above its
value was paid by M. Godefroy as a result of a sumptuous snail supper
given to that gentleman's coachman by th