that the miseries of those to whom I could offer nothing but words of consolation were a curse upon Mongenod.  That thought soothed my heart.  One morning, in January, 1816, my housekeeper announced,—­whom do you suppose?—­Mongenod!  Monsieur Mongenod!  And whom do you think I saw enter my room?  The beautiful young woman I had once seen,—­only now she was thirty-six years old,—­followed by her three children and Mongenod.  He looked younger than when he went away; for prosperity and happiness do shed a halo round their favorites.  Thin, pale, yellow, shrivelled, when I last saw him, he was now plump, sleek, rosy as a prebendary, and well dressed.  He flung himself into my arms.  Feeling, perhaps, that I received him coldly, his first words were:  ’Friend, I could not come sooner.  The ocean was not free to passenger ships till 1815; then it took me a year to close up my business and realize my property.  I have succeeded, my friend.  When I received your letter in 1806, I started in a Dutch vessel to bring you myself a little fortune; but the union of Holland with the French Empire caused the vessel to be taken by the English and sent to Jamaica, from which island I escaped by mere chance.  When I reached New York I found I was a victim to the bankruptcy of others.  In my absence my poor Charlotte had not been able to protect herself against schemers.  I was therefore forced to build up once more the edifice of my fortunes.  However, it is all done now, and here we are.  By the way those children are looking at you, you must be aware that we have often talked to them of their father’s benefactor.’  ‘Oh, yes, yes, monsieur!’ said the beautiful Mongenod, ’we have never passed a single day without remembering you.  Your share has been set aside in all our affairs.  We have looked forward eagerly to the happiness we now have in returning to you your fortune, not thinking for a moment that the payment of these just dues can ever wipe out our debt of gratitude.’  With those words Madame Mongenod held out to me that magnificent box you see over there, in which were one hundred and fifty notes of a thousand francs each.”

The old man paused an instant as if to dwell on that moment; then he went on:—­

“Mongenod looked at me fixedly and said:  ’My poor Alain, you have suffered, I know; but we did divine your sufferings; we did try every means to send the money to you, and failed in every attempt.  You told me you could not marry,—­that I had prevented it.  But here is our eldest daughter; she has been brought up in the thought of becoming your wife, and she will have a dowry of five hundred thousand francs.’  ‘God forbid that I should make her miserable!’ I cried hastily, looking at the girl, who was as beautiful as her mother when I first saw her.  I drew her to me to kiss her brow.  ’Don’t be afraid, my beautiful child!’ I said.  ’A man of fifty to a girl of seventeen? —­never! and a man as plain and ugly as I am?—­never!’ I cried.  ‘Monsieur,’ she said, ’my