ems to me more than natural," insisted Mme. Desclavettes,
"that a man should be anxious to preserve from ruin his wife and
children."

"Of course," put in M. Favoral.

Stepping resolutely toward her father:

"Have you, then, taken such precautions yourself?" demanded Mlle.
Gilberte.

"No," answered the cashier of the Mutual Credit. And, after a
moment of hesitation:

"But I am running no risks," he added. "In business, and when a
man may be ruined by a mere rise or fall in stocks, he would be
insane indeed who did not secure bread for his family, and, above
all, means for himself, wherewith to commence again. The Baron de
Thaller did not act otherwise; and, should he meet with a disaster,
Mme. de Thaller would still have a handsome fortune."

M. Desormeaux was, perhaps, the only one not to admit freely that
theory, and not to accept that ever-decisive reason, "Others do it."

But he was a philosopher, and thought it silly not to be of his time.
He therefore contented himself with saying:

"Hum! M. de Thaller's creditors might not think that mode of
proceeding entirely regular."

"Then they might sue," said M. Chapelain, laughing. "People can
always sue; only when the papers are well drawn--"

Mlle. Gilberte stood dismayed. She thought of Marius de Tregars
giving up his mother's fortune to pay his father's debts.

"What would he say," thought she, "should he hear such opinions!"

The cashier of the Mutual Credit resumed:

"Surely I blame every species of fraud. But I pretend, and I
maintain, that a man who has worked twenty years to give a handsome
dowry to his daughter has the right to demand of his son-in-law
certain conservative measures to guarantee the money, which, after
all, is his own, and which is to benefit no one but his own family."

This declaration closed the evening. It was getting late. The
Saturday guests put on their overcoats; and, as they were walking
home,

"Can you understand that little Gilberte?" said Mme. Desclavettes.
"I'd like to see a daughter of mine have such fancies! But her
poor mother is so weak!"

"Yes; but friend Favoral is firm enough for both," interrupted M.
Desormeaux; "and it is more than probable that at this very moment
he is correcting his daughter of the sin of sloth."

Well, not at all. Extremely angry as M. Favoral must have been,
neither that evening, nor the next day, did he make the remotest
allusion to what had taken place.

The followi