ought Mlle. Gilberte. "But bash! If I
do have to suffer some, it won't be great harm, after all. Surely
Marius does not complain, though he gives up for me his dearest
hopes, becomes the salaried employe of M. Marcolet, and thinks of
nothing but making money,--he so proud and so disinterested!"

Mlle. Gilberte's anticipations were but too soon realized. When M.
Favoral made his appearance the next morning, he had the sombre brow
and contracted lips of a man who has spent the night ruminating a
plan from which he does not mean to swerve.

Instead of going to his office, as usual, without saying a word to
any one, he called his wife and children to the parlor; and, after
having carefully bolted all the doors, he turned to Maxence.

"I want you," he commenced, "to give me a list of your creditors.
See that you forget none; and let it be ready as soon as possible."

But Maxence was no longer the same man. After the terrible and
well-deserved reproaches of his sister, a salutary revolution had
taken place in him. During the preceding night, he had reflected
over his conduct for the past four years; and he had been dismayed
and terrified. His impression was like that of the drunkard, who,
having become sober, remembers the ridiculous or degrading acts
which he has committed under the influence of alcohol, and, confused
and humiliated, swears never more to drink.

Thus Maxence had sworn to himself to change his mode of life,
promising that it would be no drunkard's oath, either. And his
attitude and his looks showed the pride of great resolutions.

Instead of lowering his eyes before the irritated glance of M.
Favoral, and stammering excuses and vague promises:

"It is useless, father," he replied, "to give you the list you ask
for. I am old enough to bear the responsibility of my acts. I
shall repair my follies: what I owe, I shall pay. This very day I
shall see my creditors, and make arrangements with them."

"Very well, Maxence," exclaimed Mme. Favoral, delighted.

But there was no pacifying the cashier of the Mutual Credit.

"Those are fine-sounding words," he said with a sneer; "but I doubt
if the tailors and the shirt-makers will take them in payment.
That's why I want that list."

"Still--"

"It's I who shall pay. I do not mean to have another such scene
as that of yesterday in my office. It must not be said that my
son is a sharper and a cheat at the very moment when I find for my
daughter a