"No need to acknowledge you as my brother?" I said, raising my voice. "Oh! be sure that this is a very happy moment to me! If I did for a long time conceal the ties that united us, do you suppose that it was because our positions were different, because you were only a workman, while I, more favored by fortune, chose to be an artist, a poet, a financier? No, my dear fellow; I forbade you to call me your brother, when, led astray by vicious men, you lived a life of idleness, drunkenness, and debauchery. Yes, I blushed to be the brother of a lazy vagabond! But now that you have reformed, now that you possess the esteem of your fellow workmen and your employers, I am proud to call you my brother; for one should always be proud to be related to an honest man, whatever rank he may hold in society." Balloquet shook hands with me, saying: "What you said was very fine, Rochebrune!" The baron complimented me too, but I fancy that he did not understand. I continued, addressing Frédérique: "Yes, madame, Ballangier is my brother; not on the father's side--our names are not the same--but on the mother's side. My mother was a widow with one son when she married Monsieur Rochebrune, my father.--And now," I added, turning to Mignonne, "allow me to solicit your hand for my brother, who loves you sincerely and who will devote his life to making you happy." Mignonne timidly gave her hand to Ballangier, saying to me with her customary gentleness: "I shall be very happy to be your sister." While all this was taking place, Armantine cut a peculiar figure. She left us early in the evening. The next day, she left Fontenay. "How did you know that Ballangier was my brother?" I asked Frédérique, when we were alone. "My dear, have you forgotten that day on the Champs-Élysées? The poor fellow was tipsy, and, while I was trying to quiet him, he involuntarily told me the secret, although I asked him no questions." A few days after that festivity, Frédérique received a letter, which she read with evident emotion. Then she handed it to me, murmuring: "See, my dear! you began the work, and Providence has done the rest." The letter was from Zurich, Switzerland, and contained these words: "MADAME: "Monsieur François Dauberny, travelling for pleasure, met his death three days ago on one of our glaciers. The sad event occurred, it is said, while he was pursuing a young Swiss girl, who had refused to listen to him. The papers found upon him give the information that he was your husband." "Well!" said I, taking Frédérique's hand; "nothing can part us henceforth!" THE GIRL WITH THREE PETTICOATS I THE DANGER OF SLEEPING TOO MUCH