He was doing nothing else, he was watching her with all the powers of penetration he possessed. Madame d’Argeles’s laugh had an unnatural ring that awakened his suspicions. All Coralth’s recommendations buzzed confusedly in his ears, and he judged that the moment had come “to do the sentimental,” as he would have expressed it. So he lowered his head, and in an aggrieved tone, exclaimed: “Ah! you think it very amusing, I don’t. Do you realize how wretched it makes one to live as utterly alone as a leper, without a soul to love or care for you? Other young men have a mother, sisters, relatives. I have no one! Ah! if---- But I only have friends while my money lasts.” He wiped his eyes, dry as they were, with his handkerchief, and in a still more pathetic tone, resumed: “Not that I want for anything; I receive a very handsome allowance. But when my relatives have given me the wherewithal to keep me from starving, they imagine their duty is fulfilled. I think this very hard. I didn’t come into the world at my own request, did I? I didn’t ask to be born. If I was such an annoyance to them when I came into existence, why didn’t they throw me into the river? Then they would have been well rid of me, and I should be out of my misery!” He stopped short, struck dumb with amazement, for Madame d’Argeles had thrown herself on her knees at his feet. “Have mercy!” she faltered; “Wilkie; my son, forgive me!” Alas! the unfortunate woman had failed in playing a part which was too difficult for a mother’s heart. “You have suffered cruelly, my son,” she continued; “but I--I--Ah! you can’t conceive the frightful agony it costs a mother to separate from her child! But you were not deserted, Wilkie; don’t say that. Have you not felt my love in the air around you? YOU forgotten? Know, then, that for years and years I have seen you every day, and that all my thoughts and all my hopes are centered in you alone! Wilkie!”