"You may perhaps be able to explain how the idea of this jest--which, by the way, I should call a base calumny--entered your head?" pursued Florestan. "Nothing more simple, monsieur: I saw Mademoiselle Mariette Moreau in the workshop, and was struck with her beauty. I then procured her address, visited her home, where I found her godmother, and proposed--" "Enough, sir! enough!" cried Louis indignantly. "Permit me to add, my dear client," resumed Porquin, imperturbably, "that the said godmother refused my offers point-blank, and that Mademoiselle Mariette indignantly showed me the door. As you see, I am perfectly frank, and hope this sincere avowal will win me the confidence of M. Richard, who will not fail to accept my services. As for you, Monsieur de Saint-Herem, I have examined your securities and will place the two hundred _louis_ in your hands this evening--and now that you have learned the conditions I have proposed to your friend, I am sure you must consider them reasonable." "I don't want your money," cried Louis. "Do you believe me capable of discounting my father's death?" "But, my dear client, allow me--" "Come, Florestan, let us go," interrupted Louis, "this room stifles me." "My dear Porquin," remarked Saint-Herem, as he followed his friend to the door, "as you see, there are still honest sons and daughters living. I will not say: 'May this serve you as a lesson or an example,' for you are too old a sinner to reform; but I sincerely hope this double disappointment will prove a most disagreeable pill to swallow." "Ah! my dear friend, you have relieved me of a cruel doubt," said Louis, gratefully, when they had reached the street. "I am now certain that Mariette never lowered herself to this wretch--but the fact still remains that she has broken our engagement." "Did she tell you so?" "She has written or, rather, made someone else write." "Made someone else write?" "Ah! you will laugh at me--the poor girl I love can neither read nor write." "What a happy mortal you are! You are spared the lengthy epistles I am forced to endure from a little shop girl whom I have robbed from a jealous banker. I amuse myself by making her the rage, and enjoy the poor creature's ecstasies immensely! It is so delightful to make others happy. Her grammar is outrageous, however. Ah! my friend, what orthography! it is of the antediluvian, innocent style; such as Mother Eve must have used--but if your Mariette cannot write, who knows but her secretary may have misinterpreted her thoughts?" "With what object?" "I don't know. But why not have an explanation with her?" "She has begged me, in the name of her future happiness, not to see her again." "Well, now that you are a prospective millionaire, I would advise you to see her in the name of that very future happiness."