"However, I have some talents of my own, and I am not reduced to that yet. I love the arts; ah! I adore them! I was born to be an artist. I don't know how to draw, I cannot play on any instrument, I do not write poetry with great facility; but, for all that, I love painting, music, and poetry. If I should go on the stage, I believe I should make a success of it. But to make one's début at thirty years--that's rather late in life. And then, the idea of the son of a doctor at Rennes going on the stage! But why not? Louis XIV did it; he acted before his court; and if I had been in Racine's place, I certainly would have written some splendid parts for him, instead of trying to turn aside his inclination. Our present-day authors wouldn't be so stupid; consequently they are rich, whereas in Racine's time they were not. "But I can't begin to-morrow, and yet I must dine to-morrow: a desperate plight to be in when one has neither money nor credit. Come, come, Dubourg! come, my fine fellow, don't be downcast, retain that lightness of heart, that sang-froid which has never failed you thus far. Remember that it is a glorious thing to be able to endure misfortune; that it is in disaster that a brave heart manifests its courage. Oh! yes; it's easy enough for me to say all this now, while my stomach is still full of Mademoiselle Delphine's cakes and sweetmeats and punch; but when I am hungry, I am afraid I shall be a wretched philosopher. "In misfortune, one has recourse to one's friends; but one has no friends when one is unfortunate. But sometimes men aren't so selfish as they are said to be. Let me think! Frédéric! yes, he alone can be useful to me. Frédéric is only twenty; he still looks upon the world as a young man is likely to do at that age, when he has been, up to eighteen, under his father's eye and under the care of a tutor. Frédéric is kind-hearted, generous, easily moved--too easily, indeed; but it is not for me to blame him for following too readily the impulses of his heart. He has accommodated me several times; but, no matter; I am sure that he'll do it again, if he can. Let us go to see Frédéric." Dubourg mechanically put his hand to his fob, to see what time it was; then he sighed, and murmured: "Unlucky dog that I am! I have never been able to keep one a week. Ah! my poor aunt! If I only had your five hundred francs!" The weather was becoming threatening, and a few drops of rain fell. The cabs had ceased to break the silence of the night; the street lanterns cast only a faint and flickering light.