on the five hundred francs of an officer of the Legion of honor?  During the past eleven years, Madame Descoings, by giving up three thousand francs a year, had paid her debt twice over, but she still continued to sacrifice her grandson’s interests to those of the Bridau family.  Though all Agathe’s honorable and upright feelings were shocked by this terrible disaster, she said to herself:  “Poor boy! is it his fault?  He is faithful to his oath.  I have done wrong not to marry him.  If I had found him a wife, he would not have got entangled with this danseuse.  He has such a vigorous constitution—­”

Madame Descoings had likewise reflected during the night as to the best way of saving the honor of the family.  At daybreak, she got out of bed and went to her friend’s room.

“Neither you nor Philippe should manage this delicate matter,” she urged.  “Our two old friends Du Bruel and Claparon are dead, but we still have Desroches, who is very sagacious.  I’ll go and see him this morning.  He can tell the newspaper people that Philippe trusted a friend and has been made a victim; that his weakness in such respects makes him unfit to be a cashier; what has now happened may happen again, and that Philippe prefers to resign.  That will prevent his being turned off.”

Agathe, seeing that this business lie would save the honor of her son, at any rate in the eyes of strangers, kissed Madame Descoings, who went out early to make an end of the dreadful affair.

Philippe, meanwhile, had slept the sleep of the just.  “She is sly, that old woman,” he remarked, when his mother explained to him why breakfast was late.

Old Desroches, the last remaining friend of these two poor women, who, in spite of his harsh nature, never forgot that Bridau had obtained for him his place, fulfilled like an accomplished diplomat the delicate mission Madame Descoings had confided to him.  He came to dine that evening with the family, and notified Agathe that she must go the next day to the Treasury, rue Vivienne, sign the transfer of the funds involved, and obtain a coupon for the six hundred francs a year which still remained to her.  The old clerk did not leave the afflicted household that night without obliging Philippe to sign a petition to the minister of war, asking for his reinstatement in the active army.  Desroches promised the two women to follow up the petition at the war office, and to profit by the triumph of a certain duke over Philippe in the matter of the danseuse, and so obtain that nobleman’s influence.

“Philippe will be lieutenant-colonel in the Duc de Maufrigneuse’s regiment within three months,” he declared, “and you will be rid of him.”

Desroches went away, smothered with blessings from the two poor widows and Joseph.  As to the newspaper, it ceased to exist at the end of two months, just as Finot had predicted.  Philippe’s crime had, therefore, so far as the world knew, no consequences.  But Agathe’s motherhood had received a deadly wound.  Her belief in her son once shaken, she lived in perpetual fear, mingled with some satisfactions, as she saw her worst apprehensions unrealized.