the recollection of my young friend, whose eminence as a man of science has just been consecrated by the Academy, did not cast upon my mind a veil of sadness.  All here present,” continued Monsieur Picot, raising his voice, which is rather loud, “are guilty towards him:  I, for ingratitude when he gave me the glory of his discovery and the reward of his immortal labors; that young lady, whom I see over there with tears in her eyes, for having foolishly accused him of atheism; that other lady, with the stern face, for having harshly replied to the proposals of his noble father, whose white hairs she ought rather to have honored; Monsieur Thuillier, for having sacrificed him to ambition; Monsieur Colleville, for not performing his part of father and choosing for his daughter the worthiest and most honorable man; Monsieur Minard, for having tried to foist his son into his place.  There are but two persons in the room at this moment who have done him full justice,—­Madame Thuillier and Monsieur l’Abbe Gondrin.  Well, I shall now ask that man of God whether we can help doubting the divine justice when this generous young man, the victim of all of us, is, at the present hour, at the mercy of waves and tempests, to which for three long years he is consigned.”

“Providence is very powerful, monsieur,” replied the Abbe Gondrin.  “God will protect Monsieur Felix Phellion wherever he may be, and I have the firmest hope that three years hence he will be among his friends once more.”

  “But three years!” said Monsieur Picot.  “Will it still be time? 
  Will Mademoiselle Colleville have waited for him?”

  “Yes, I swear it!” cried the young girl, carried away by an
  impulse she could not control.

  Then she sat down again, quite ashamed, and burst into tears.

  “And you, Mademoiselle Thuillier, and you, Madame Colleville, will
  you permit this young lady to reserve herself for one who is
  worthy of her?”

  “Yes!  Yes!” cried everybody; for Monsieur Picot’s voice, which is
  very full and sonorous, seemed to have tears in it and affected
  everybody.

  “Then it is time,” he said, “to forgive Providence.”

  And rushing suddenly to the door, where my ear was glued to the
  keyhole, he very nearly caught me.

  “Announce,” he said to me, in a very loud tone of voice, “Monsieur
  Felix Phellion and his family.”

  And thereupon the door of a side room opened, and five or six
  persons came out, who were led by Monsieur Picot into the salon.

  At the sight of her lover, Mademoiselle Colleville was taken ill,
  but the faint lasted only a minute; seeing Monsieur Felix at her
  feet she threw herself into Madame Thuillier’s arms, crying out:—­

  “Godmother! you always told me to hope.”

Mademoiselle Thuillier, who, in spite of her harsh nature and want of education, I have always myself thought a remarkable woman, now had a fine impulse.  As the company were about to go into the dining-room,—­

  “One moment!” she said.