d Cesarine, who rose softly to lay a kiss on Cesar's
head. "Then Anselme could do nothing?" she added, as her mother and
Pillerault returned.

"UNGRATEFUL!" cried Cesar, struck by the name of Anselme in the only
living part of his memory,--as the note of a piano lifts the hammer
which strikes its corresponding string.

V

From the moment when that word "Ungrateful" was flung at him like an
anathema, little Popinot had not had an hour's sleep nor an instant's
peace of mind. The unhappy lad cursed his uncle, and finally went to
see him. To get the better of that experienced judicial wisdom he poured
forth the eloquence of love, hoping it might seduce a being from whose
mind human speech slips like water from a duck's back,--a judge!

"From a commercial point of view," he said, "custom does allow the
managing-partner to advance a certain sum to the sleeping-partner on the
profits of the business, and we are certain to make profits. After close
examination of my affairs I do feel strong enough to pay forty thousand
francs in three months. The known integrity of Monsieur Cesar is a
guarantee that he will use that forty thousand to pay off his debts.
Thus the creditors, if there should come a failure, can lay no blame on
us. Besides, uncle, I would rather lose forty thousand francs than lose
Cesarine. At this very moment while I am speaking, she has doubtless
been told of my refusal, and will cease to esteem me. I vowed my blood
to my benefactor! I am like a young sailor who ought to sink with his
captain, or a soldier who should die with his general."

"Good heart and bad merchant, you will never lose my esteem," said the
judge, pressing the hand of his nephew. "I have thought a great deal of
this," he added. "I know you love Cesarine devotedly, and I think you
can satisfy the claims of love and the claims of commerce."

"Ah! my uncle, if you have found a way my honor is saved!"

"Advance Birotteau fifty thousand on his share in your oil, which has
now become a species of property, reserving to yourself the right of
buying it back. I will draw up the deed."

Anselme embraced his uncle and rushed home, made notes to the amount
of fifty thousand francs, and ran from the Rue des Cinq-Diamants to the
Place Vendome, so that just as Cesarine, her mother, and Pillerault were
gazing at Cesar, amazed at the sepulchural tone in which he had
uttered the word "Ungrateful!" the door of the salon opened and Popinot
appeared