"Oh! you sometimes look as if you'd like to say that you don't cut as good a figure here as you used to do, and in that you are wrong. Come, were you really any richer when you had thirty thousand francs a year? People robbed you and cheated you and you knew nothing about it. To-day you have the necessaries of life, and you need have no fear of thieves; everybody knows that you have no rolls of gold pieces hidden in your straw bed. You had ten servants, each a greater glutton and sot and sluggard than the rest; Parisian servants, that tells the whole story. To-day you have Monsieur Sylvain Charasson, also a glutton and a sluggard, I agree." As she said this, Janille raised her voice, so that Sylvain could hear in the kitchen; then added in a lower tone: "But his stupidity makes you laugh, and when he breaks something, you are not sorry to find that you're not the most awkward member of the household. You had ten horses, always badly kept, and unfit to be used because they weren't properly taken care of; to-day you have your old _Lanterne_, the best animal in the world, always well-groomed, full of courage and sober--you should see her eat dry leaves and rushes, just like a goat! And speaking of goats, where will you find finer ones? Just like two deer, excellent milkers, and always amusing you with their pretty antics, climbing over the ruins for your evening entertainment! And what about your cellar? You had one that was well supplied, but your rascally flunkeys baptized themselves with wine as they pleased, and you drank only what was left. Now you drink your light native wine, which you have always liked, and which is healthy and refreshing. When I take a hand in making it, it's as clear as water from the rock and doesn't heat your stomach. And aren't you satisfied with your clothes? You used to have a wardrobe that was eaten up by the moths, and your waistcoats went out of fashion before you had worn them; for you never cared for dress. To-day you have just what you need to keep cool in summer and warm in winter; the village tailor fits you beautifully and doesn't make your clothes too tight at the joints. Come, monsieur, confess that everything is for the best, that you never had less care, and that you are the luckiest of men; for I have said nothing yet of the privilege of having a lovely daughter who is happy with you-----"