The nun spoke in a tone as mournful as her look. Her heart was evidently not in the words which she uttered. Without doubt, she had learned them when she first entered the convent. Then they expressed something she really felt, she spoke her own thoughts; but, since then, she had repeated the words over and over again to the friends of every sick person that she attended, until they lost all meaning so far as she was concerned. To utter them became simply a part of her duties as nurse, the same as the preparation of draughts, and the making of poultices. Noel was not listening to her; his thoughts were far away. “Your dear mother,” continued the nun, “this good lady that you love so much, no doubt trusted in her religion. Do you wish to endanger her salvation? If she could speak in the midst of her cruel sufferings--” The advocate was on the point of replying, when the servant announced that a gentleman, who would not give his name, wished to speak with him on business. “I will come,” he said quickly. “What do you decide, sir?” persisted the nun. “I leave you free, sister, to do as you may judge best.” The worthy woman began to recite her lesson of thanks, but to no purpose. Noel had disappeared with a displeased look; and almost immediately she heard his voice in the next room, saying: “At last you have come, M. Clergeot, I had almost given you up!” The visitor, whom the advocate had been expecting, is a person well known in the Rue St. Lazare, round about the Rue de Provence, the neighbourhood of Notre Dame de Lorette, and all along the exterior Boulevards, from the Chaussee des Martyrs to the Rond-Point of the old Barriere de Clichy. M. Clergeot is no more a usurer than M. Jourdin’s father was a shopkeeper. Only, as he has lots of money, and is very obliging, he lends it to his friends; and, in return for this kindness, he consents to receive interest, which varies from fifteen to five hundred per cent. The excellent man positively loves his clients, and his honesty is generally appreciated. He has never been known to seize a debtor’s goods; he prefers to follow him up without respite for ten years, and tear from him bit by bit what is his due. He lives near the top of the Rue de la Victoire. He has no shop, and yet he sells everything saleable, and some other things, too, that the law scarcely considers merchandise. Anything to be useful or neighbourly. He often asserts that he is not very rich. It is possibly true. He is whimsical more than covetous, and fearfully bold. Free with his money when one pleases him, he would not lend five francs, even with a mortgage on the Chateau of Ferrieres as guarantee, to whosoever does not meet with his approval. However, he often risks his all on the most unlucky cards. His preferred customers consist of women of doubtful morality, actresses, artists, and those venturesome fellows who enter upon professions which depend solely upon those who practice them, such as lawyers and doctors.