If she loved him! Had she not at his command left the door open that he might enter? Had she not adorned herself in the dress and ornaments that he liked, to make herself beautiful in his eyes? What could it be that he was asking her now to grant to him? How was it that she, usually so weak, was now so strong in her denials? Let us listen for a moment. “No, no,” she answered, indignantly, “it is impossible.” “But I only ask it for two days, Clarisse. With these six thousand francs I will pay the five thousand I have lost, and with the other thousand I will conquer fortune.” She looked at him with an expression of absolute terror. “No, no,” she repeated, “it cannot be. You must find some other way.” “But there is none.” “Listen. I have a rich friend; I will write to her and ask her to lend me the money.” “But I must have it to-morrow.” “Well, then, find the Director; tell him the truth.” “And he will dismiss me instantly. No; my plan is much the best. In two days I will restore the money.” “You only say that.” “I swear it.” And, seeing that his words did not convince her, he added, “I had better have said nothing to you, but have gone at once to the wardrobe and taken what I needed.” But she answered, trembling, for she feared that he would yet do this, “Do you not know that Zénaïde counts her money every day? This very night she showed the casket to the apprentice.” Chariot started. “Is that so?” he asked. “Yes; the poor girl is very happy. It would kill her to lose it. Besides, the key is not in the wardrobe.” Suddenly perceiving that she was weakening her own position, she was silent. The young man was no longer the supplicating lover, he was the spoiled child of the house, imploring his aunt to save him from dishonor. Through her tears she mechanically repeated the words, “It is impossible.” Suddenly he rose to his feet. “You will not? Very good. Only one thing remains then. Farewell! I will not survive disgrace.” He expected a cry. No; she came toward him. “You wish to die! Ah, well, so do I! I have had enough of life, of shame, of falsehood, and of love—love that must be concealed with such care that I am never sure of finding it. I am ready.” He drew back. “What folly!” he said, sullenly. “This is too much,” he added, vehemently, after a moment’s silence, and hurried to the stairs. She followed him. “Where are you going?” she asked. “Leave me!” he said, roughly. She snatched his arm. “Take care!” she whispered with quivering lips. “If you take one more step in that direction, I will call for assistance!” “Call, then! Let the world know that your nephew is your lover, and your lover a thief.”