have just received from Costeclar," he said in a hoarse
voice. "Read."

She read, "Allow me, dear friend, to release you from your engagement.
Owing to circumstances absolutely beyond my control, I find myself
compelled to give up the honor of becoming a member of your family."

What could have happened?

Standing in the middle of the parlor, the cashier of the Mutual Credit
held, bowed down beneath his glance, his wife and children, Mme.
Favoral trembling, Maxence starting in mute surprise, and Mlle.
Gilberte, who needed all the strength of her will to control the
explosion of her immense joy.

Every thing in M. Favoral betrayed, nevertheless, much more the
excitement of a disaster than the rage of a deception.

Never had his family seen him thus,--livid, his cravat undone, his
hair wet with perspiration, and clinging to his temples.

"Will you please explain this letter?" he asked at last.

And, as no one answered him, he took up that letter again from the
table where Mlle. Gilberte had laid it, and commenced reading it
again, scanning each syllable, as if in hopes of discovering in each
word some hidden meaning.

"What did you say to Costeclar?" he resumed, "what did you do to
him to make him take such a determination?"

"Nothing," answered Maxence and Mlle. Gilberte.

The hope of being at last rid of that man inspired Mme. Favoral with
something like courage.

"He has doubtless understood," she meekly suggested, "that he could
not triumph over our daughter's repugnance."

But her husband interrupted her,

"No," he uttered, "Costeclar is not the man to trouble himself about
the ridiculous caprices of a little girl. There is something else.
But what is it? Come, if you know it, any of you, if you suspect it
even, speak, say it. You must see that I am in a state of fearful
anxiety."

It was the first time that he thus allowed something to appear of
what was passing within him, the first time that he ever complained.

"M. Costeclar alone, father, can give you the explanation you ask of
us," said Mlle. Gilberte.

The cashier of the Mutual Credit shook his head. "Do you suppose,
then, that I have not questioned him? I found his letter this
morning at the office. At once I ran to his apartments, Rue
Vivienne. He had just gone out; and it is in vain that I called
for him at Jottras', and at the office of 'The Financial Pilot.'
I found him at last at the bourse, after running three hours. But