“Certainly not,” replied the merchant; “but every thing is in success; and in that respect, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, your enterprise has been unfortunate.  I am a man who examines his goods twice before he buys, and it is difficult to pass apples on me for lemons!”

This heartless, trafficking slang tortured the unfortunate bankrupt to such a degree that he arose from his seat in a passion and began to pace the apartment.

“You have no consideration for my misfortunes, sir,” said he.  “You pretend that I designed deceiving you; but was it you who discovered my poverty?  Are you not free to act as you please, after the disclosures that I have voluntarily given you?  And let me remark, sir, that if I listen humbly to your reproaches—­if I even acknowledge my fault—­the sense of manhood is not dead in my soul.  You talk of ‘merchandise’ and ‘goods,’ as if you came here to buy something!  You allude to my Lenora, do you?  All your wealth, sir, could not purchase her! and, if love is not powerful enough in your eyes to obliterate the pecuniary inequality between us, know that I am a De Vlierbeck, and that name, even in poverty, weighs more than all your money!”

During this explosion his face kindled with indignation and his eyes shot forth their fiery rays upon the merchant, who, alarmed by the loud words and animated gestures of De Vlierbeck, regarded him with an air of stupefaction from the other side of the apartment.

“Good God, sir,” said he at last, “there is no need of so much violence and loud talk!  Each of us remains where he is; each keeps what he has, and the affair is at an end.  I have but one request to make of you, and it is that you will never again receive my nephew,—­or else—­”

“Or else?” interrupted De Vlierbeck, passionately; “do you dare to threaten me?” But, restraining himself almost instantly, he continued, with comparative calmness, “Enough!  Shall I call Monsieur Denecker’s carriage?”

“If you please,” replied the merchant.  “We cannot do business together, it seems; but that is no reason why we should become enemies.”

“Well! well! we will stop short of that, sir.  But this conversation annoys me; it must end!” And, so saying, he led Monsieur Denecker to the door and bade him farewell abruptly.  Be Vlierbeck returned to the parlor, fell into his chair and covered his brow with both hands, as a heavy groan burst from his breast, which heaved with almost hysterical emotion.  For a long time he remained silent and motionless; but soon his hands fell heavily on his knees, a deathly paleness overspread his face, and the room whirled around the heart-broken man.

Suddenly he heard footsteps in the chamber above, and, rousing himself by a strong effort, “Oh, God! my poor child!” cried he; “my poor Lenora!  She comes! my punishment is not yet complete!  I must break the heart of my own child; I must tear from it all its hopes, blot out its dream, behold it withered up with grief!  Oh that I could escape this dreadful disclosure!  Alas!  What to say to her? how to explain it?”