At last dinner made its appearance, and Kitty recovering her spirits, they had a very pleasant meal together, and then Gaston sat over his coffee with a cigarette, talking to Kitty. He never was without a cigarette in his mouth, and his fingers were all stained a yellowish brown by the nicotine. Kitty lay back in a big arm-chair listening to his idle talk and admiring him as he sat at the dinner table. ‘Can’t you stay tonight?’ she said, looking imploringly at him. Vandeloup shook his head gently. ‘I have an engagement, as I told you before,’ he said, lazily; ‘besides, evenings at home are so dreary.’ ‘I will be here,’ said Kitty, reproachfully. ‘That will, of course, make a difference,’ answered Gaston, with a faint sneer; ‘but you know,’ shrugging his shoulders, ‘I do not cultivate the domestic virtues.’ ‘What will you do when we are married?’ said Kitty, with an uneasy laugh. ‘Enough for the day is the evil thereof,’ replied M. Vandeloup, with a gay smile. ‘What do you mean?’ asked the girl, with a sudden start. Vandeloup arose from his seat, and lighting another cigarette he lounged over to the fireplace, and leaned against the mantelpiece with his hands in his pockets. ‘I mean that when we are married it will be time enough to talk about such things,’ he answered, looking at her through his eyelashes. ‘Then we will talk about them very shortly,’ said Kitty, with an angry laugh, as her hands clenched the arms of the chair tightly; ‘for the year is nearly up, and you promised to marry me at the end of it.’ ‘How many things do we intend to do that are never carried out?’ said Gaston, gently. ‘Do you mean that you will break your promise?’ she asked, with a scared face. Vandeloup removed the cigarette from his mouth, and, leaning one elbow on the mantelpiece, looked at her with a smile. ‘My dear,’ he said, quietly, ‘things are not going well with me at present, and I want money badly.’ ‘Well?’ asked Kitty in a whisper, her heart beating loudly. ‘You are not rich,’ said her lover, ‘so why should we two paupers get married, only to plunge ourselves into misery?’ ‘Then you refuse to marry me?’ she said, rising to her feet. He bowed his head gently. ‘At present, yes,’ he answered, and replaced the cigarette between his lips. Kitty stood for a moment as if turned to stone, and then throwing up her hands with a gesture of despair, fell back into the chair, and burst into a flood of tears. Vandeloup shrugged his shoulders in a resigned sort of manner, and glanced at his watch to see when it would be time for him to go. Meanwhile he smoked quietly on, and Kitty, after sobbing for some time, dried her eyes, and sat up in the chair again. ‘How long is this going to last?’ she asked, in a hard voice. ‘Till I get rich!’ ‘That may be a long time?’ ‘It may.’ ‘Perhaps never?’ ‘Perhaps!’ ‘And then I will never be your wife?’ ‘Unfortunately, no.’