The old woman died on the 31st of December, five days after the terrible blow which old Desroches had so innocently given her. The five hundred francs--the only money in the household--were barely enough to pay for her funeral. She left a small amount of silver and some furniture, the value of which Madame Bixiou paid over to her grandson Bixiou. Reduced to eight hundred francs’ annuity paid to her by young Desroches, who had bought a business without clients, and himself took the capital of twelve thousand francs, Agathe gave up her _appartement_ on the third floor, and sold all her superfluous furniture. When, at the end of a month, Philippe seemed to be convalescent, his mother coldly explained to him that the costs of his illness had taken all her ready money, that she should be obliged in future to work for her living, and she urged him, with the utmost kindness, to re-enter the army and support himself. “You might have spared me that sermon,” said Philippe, looking at his mother with an eye that was cold from utter indifference. “I have seen all along that neither you nor my brother love me. I am alone in the world; I like it best!” “Make yourself worthy of our affection,” answered the poor mother, struck to the very heart, “and we will give it back to you--” “Nonsense!” he cried, interrupting her. He took his old hat, rubbed white at the edges, stuck it over one ear, and went downstairs, whistling. “Philippe! where are you going without any money?” cried his mother, who could not repress her tears. “Here, take this--” She held out to him a hundred francs in gold, wrapped up in paper. Philippe came up the stairs he had just descended, and took the money. “Well; won’t you kiss me?” she said, bursting into tears. He pressed his mother in his arms, but without the warmth of feeling which was all that could give value to the embrace. “Where shall you go?” asked Agathe. “To Florentine, Girodeau’s mistress. Ah! they are real friends!” he answered brutally. He went away. Agathe turned back with trembling limbs, and failing eyes, and aching heart. She fell upon her knees, prayed God to take her unnatural child into His own keeping, and abdicated her woeful motherhood. CHAPTER VI