enchained together; each cause produces its effect; the prodigality of Louis XIV is the consequence of the avarice of Colbert." "Remember, Florestan," said Louis, sadly, "that while this _great king_, whose memory I have always abhorred, was ruining the country by his insolent prodigalities, the heavily-taxed people were living in atrocious servitude to provide for the bold ostentations of Louis XIV, his mistresses and their children. And what misery still exists in our days! Ah! if you knew what a life of wretchedness Mariette has endured! Although the poor child is strong and courageous, the sight of such frightful destitution would fill your heart with bitter resentment." "What will you, I am a philanthropist in my own way; I take things as they come, and, as I cannot do better, I spend to my last farthing. None can accuse me of encouraging the idleness of luxurious industries." "I do not accuse your generous heart, my friend; the man who spends his money liberally or foolishly, provides work for the poor, and work is bread--yet, you laud avarice." "My dear fellow, who would appreciate the excellence of arms, if not the warrior? The excellence of a horse, if not the cavalier? The excellence of a lute, if not the player? Paganini, as pope, would have canonized Stradivarius, the maker of those wonderful violins, which the great artist plays so admirably. Therefore, as I have the presumption of playing admirably with millions, I would canonize my uncle, that heroic martyr of avarice, if distributive justice would only place in my hands the wonderful instruments of prodigality he is manufacturing by hoarding his money." "Ah! heavens!" cried Louis, suddenly gazing at his friend with a horrified expression. "What is it?" asked Saint-Herem, quietly. "Don't you know?" "Know what?" "True enough, M. Ramon decided to come to Paris very suddenly." "Is my uncle in Paris?" "Ah! Florestan, what strange things happen in this world--" "What do you mean?" "And to think that I should be the one to announce it, after the conversation we have just had together!--It is, indeed, most strange!" "But what in the deuce have you to announce? And what is there so strange about it?" "I have told you that my father had arranged a marriage between your cousin and myself." "Yes, what then?" "Being in ignorance of my refusal, and wishing to hasten a marriage he desired as ardently as my father, your uncle and his daughter left Dreux yesterday and arrived this morning--" "In Paris. Well, what of it? Why this hesitation and embarrassment on your part, my dear Louis?" "They did not come directly to Paris, but stopped at Versailles--at Versailles--where my poor father went--" At this thought, which revived all his grief for his father's terrible death, Louis again broke into sobs. "My dear friend, I understand your bitter grief," said Florestan, moved by his friend's emotion, "but try to be more courageous."