"M. Laubépin, this quite decides me; from to-morrow I shall cease to use a title which is ridiculous for one in my position, and which, it seems, makes me the object of the most paltry intrigues. My family name is Odiot, and henceforth I shall use no other. And now, though I recognise gratefully the keen interest in my welfare which has induced you to be the channel of such remarkable propositions, I must beg you to spare me any others of a like character." "In that case, marquis, I have absolutely nothing more to tell you," said M. Laubépin, and, as if suddenly taken with a fit of joviality, he rubbed his hands together with a noise like the crackling of parchment. "You are a difficult man to place, M. Maxime," he added, smiling. "Oh, very difficult! It is remarkable that I should not have already noticed your striking likeness to your mother, particularly your eyes and your smile ... but we must not digress; and, since you are resolved to maintain yourself by honest work, may I ask what are your talents and qualifications?" "My education, monsieur, was naturally that of a man destined for a life of wealth and case. However, I have studied law, and am nominally a barrister." "A barrister! The devil you are! But the name is not enough. At the bar, more than in any other career, everything depends on personal effort; and now—let us see—do you speak well, marquis?" "So badly that I believe I am incapable of putting two sentences together in public." "H’m! Scarcely what one could call a heaven-born orator. You must try something else; but the matter requires more careful consideration. I see you are tired, marquis. Here are your papers, which you can examine at your leisure. I have the honour to wish you farewell. Allow me to light you down. A moment—am I to await your further instructions before applying the value of those jewels to the payment of your creditors?" "Oh, by no means. But I should wish you rather to deduct a just remuneration for your kind exertions." We had reached the landing of the staircase; M. Laubépin, who stooped a little as he walked, sharply straightened himself. "So far as your creditors are concerned," he said, "you may count upon my obedience, marquis. As to me, I was your mother’s friend, and I beg humbly but earnestly that her son will treat me as a friend." I gave my hand to the old gentleman; he shook it warmly and we parted. Back in the little room I now occupy, under the roof of the _hôtel_, which is mine no longer, I wished to convince myself that the full knowledge of my misery had not depressed me to a degree unworthy of a man. So I have sat down to write an account of this decisive day of my life, endeavouring to preserve exactly the phraseology of the old notary, a mixture of stiffness and courtesy, of mistrust and kind feeling, which more than once made me smile, though my heart was bleeding.