“Come in and see your uncle,” whispered Marsac. “I can’t--I won’t,” answered Fontaine, desperately. “But you must. The best and only thing now is to face the music. And, besides, you would feel sympathy for the old man,--he is so humble, so gentle, and seems so grateful for even the small kindness I have shown him.” “He has wrecked my life,” was Fontaine’s angry reply. “Rubbish! you are twenty times better off for him. Come along;” and Fontaine never having resisted Marsac in his life could not do so now, and went obediently into the drawing-room to greet affectionately the man whose very existence he conceived was utterly disastrous to him. Uncle Maurice was charmed with the reception he got from Fontaine, and immediately began joking him about Claire. “And she thought you had a rich old uncle who had died and left you a fortune--ha! ha!” he chuckled. “Well, perhaps, after all, you will be just as happy when the truth is known.” Fontaine could scarcely stand this; but luckily Uncle Maurice concluded he would make himself a little presentable before being introduced to Claire. “I have some better clothes than these,” he said apologetically, “though I haven’t them in my bag with me.” “Never mind,” said Marsac, cordially; “go to our quarters, just around the corner; here are my keys. Get anything you want,--linen, cigars, liqueurs,--and come back very soon, so we can present you to Claire and her cousin Delphine. We will wait for you here.” “Let me assist you,” said Fontaine, trying to take the old bag. “No, no, no!” cried Uncle Maurice, determinedly; “I’ve got to hold on to that,--it has all my little savings in it.” And the old man went off, promising to return in half an hour. Left alone, Marsac and Fontaine avoided each other’s gaze, and said not a word. Language could not express the depth, the height, the breadth of the catastrophe that had befallen them. Yet they were undeniably better off than if Uncle Maurice had never lived. After a long and painful pause, Marsac spoke. “You must confess at once to Claire; and I don’t believe it will change her affection for you.” [Illustration] Fontaine had no time to reply, for at that moment Claire and Delphine entered the room together. It was plain that they were distressed about something, and Delphine’s first words were,-- “We are in very great trouble.” “All is not bright for us, either,” gloomily replied Marsac. “Ours is a very real trouble,” began Claire, half crying. “We have found out that papa spends half his time with Madame Fleury. He writes to her, and to-day came a bill for thirty bouquets in three weeks for her. If he should marry her--oh, the thought is too dreadful!” and Claire burst into tears. Fontaine took her hand tenderly, and led her into the conservatory. Marsac and Delphine were now left alone. Marsac for once was completely unnerved, but he managed to hide it from Delphine.