And in spite of her exclamations and protestations he persisted in rendering her an account. Of the six thousand francs obtained by the sale of the jewels two hundred only had been spent, and he had kept one hundred to last till the end of the month, with the strict economy, the penuriousness, which he now displayed. Afterward he would no doubt sell La Souleiade, he would work, he would be able to extricate himself from his difficulties. But he would not touch the five thousand francs which remained, for they were her property, her own, and she would find them again in the drawer. “Master, master, you are giving me a great deal of pain—” “I wish it,” he interrupted, “and it is you who are trying to break my heart. Come, it is half-past seven, I will go and cord your trunks since they are locked.” When Martine and Clotilde were alone and face to face they looked at each other for a moment in silence. Ever since the commencement of the new situation, they had been fully conscious of their secret antagonism, the open triumph of the young mistress, the half concealed jealousy of the old servant about her adored master. Now it seemed that the victory remained with the servant. But in this final moment their common emotion drew them together. “Martine, you must not let him eat like a poor man. You promise me that he shall have wine and meat every day?” “Have no fear, mademoiselle.” “And the five thousand francs lying there, you know belong to him. You are not going to let yourselves starve to death, I suppose, with those there. I want you to treat him very well.” “I tell you that I will make it my business to do so, mademoiselle, and that monsieur shall want for nothing.” There was a moment’s silence. They were still regarding each other. “And watch him, to see that he does not overwork himself. I am going away very uneasy; he has not been well for some time past. Take good care of him.” “Make your mind easy, mademoiselle, I will take care of him.” “Well, I give him into your charge. He will have only you now; and it is some consolation to me to know that you love him dearly. Love him with all your strength. Love him for us both.” “Yes, mademoiselle, as much as I can.” Tears came into their eyes; Clotilde spoke again. “Will you embrace me, Martine?” “Oh, mademoiselle, very gladly.”