“Nothing at all—­nothing.  Sophie, do you think I am fool enough to bargain in such a matter?”

“Then I will stay.  Yes, I will bring my action.  All the world shall hear, and they shall know how you have destroyed me and yourself.  Ah! you think I am afraid—­that I will not spend my money.  I will spend all—­all—­all; and I will be revenged.”

“You may go or stay, it is the same thing to me.  Now, if you please, I will take my leave.”  And he got up from his chair to leave her.

“It is the same thing to you?”

“Quite the same.”

“Then I will stay, and she shall hear my name every day of her life—­every hour.  She shall be so sick of me and of you that—­that—­that—­Oh, Edouard!” This last appeal was made to him because he was already at the door, and could not be stopped in any other way.

“What else have you to say, my sister?”

“Oh, Edouard, what would I not give to see all those riches yours?  Has it not been my dearest wish?  Edouard, you are ungrateful.  All men are ungrateful.”  Now, having succeeded in stopping him, she buried her face in the corner of the sofa and wept plentifully.  It must be presumed that her acting before her brother must have been altogether thrown away; but the acting was, nevertheless, very good.

“If you are in truth going to St. Petersburg,” he said, “I will bid you adieu now.  If not—­au revoir.”

“I am going.  Yes, Edouard, I am.  I can not bear this country longer.  My heart is being torn to pieces.  All my affections are outraged.  Yes, I am going—­perhaps on Monday—­perhaps on Monday week.  But I go in truth.  My brother, adieu.”  Then she got up, and, putting a hand on each of his shoulders, lifted up her face to be kissed.  He embraced her in the manner proposed, and turned to leave her.  But before he went she made to him one other petition, holding him by the arm as she did so.  “Edouard, you can lend me twenty napoleons till I am at St. Petersburg?”

“No, Sophie, no.”

“Not lend your sister twenty napoleons!”

“No, Sophie.  I never lend money.  It is a rule.”

“Will you give me five?  I am so poor.  I have almost nothing.”

“Things are not so bad with you as that, I hope?”

“Ah! yes, they are very bad.  Since I have been in this accursed city—­now, this time, what have I got?  Nothing—­nothing.  She was to be all in all to me, and she has given me nothing!  It is very bad to be so poor.  Say that you will give me five napoleons—­oh my brother.” she was still hanging by his arm, and, as she did so, she looked up into his face with tears in her eyes.  As he regarded her, bending down his face over hers, a slight smile came upon his countenance.  Then he put his hand into his pocket, and, taking out his purse, handed to her five sovereigns.

“Only five!” she said.

“Only five,” he answered.