Paul’s necessities and conscience were fighting a hard battle, and he remained silent, as a person generally does before arriving at a momentous decision.

At length he broke the silence.  “No,” said he, “your offer is one that I cannot accept, for I feel—­”

“This is no time, my dear Paul, to talk of feelings,” interrupted Rose; “besides, can you not see that our refusal to accept the loan annoys this worthy gentleman?”

“The young lady is quite right,” returned Daddy Tantaine.  “Come, let us say that the matter is settled.  Go out and get in something to eat, sharp, for it has struck four some time ago.”

At these words, Rose started, and a scarlet flush spread over her cheek.  “Four o’clock,” repeated she, thinking of her letter; but after a moment’s reflection she stepped up to the cracked mirror, and arranging her tattered skirts, took up the banknote and left the room.

“She is a rare beauty,” remarked Daddy Tantaine with the air of one who was an authority in such matters, “and as clever as they make them.  Ah! if she had only some one to give her a hint, she might rise to any height.”

Paul’s ideas were in such a wild state of confusion, that he could make no reply; and, now that he was no longer held in thrall by Rose’s presence, he began to be terrified at what had taken place, for he imagined that he caught a sinister expression in the old man’s face which made him very suspicious of the wisdom of the course he had been persuaded to pursue.  Was there ever such an unheard-of event as an old man of such a poverty-stricken appearance showering banknotes upon the heads of perfect strangers?  There was certainly something mysterious in the affair, and Paul made up his mind that he would do his utmost to avoid being compromised.

“I have thought the matter over,” said he resolutely; “and it is impossible for me to accept the loan of a sum which it would be difficult for me to repay.”

“My dear young friend, that is not the way to talk.  If you do not have a good opinion of yourself, all the world will judge you according to your own estimation.  Your inexperience has, up to this time, been the sole cause of your failure.  Poverty soon changes a boy into a man as straw ripens fruit; but the first thing you must do is to put all confidence in me.  You can repay the five hundred francs at your convenience, but I must have six per cent. for my money and your note of hand.”

“But really—­,” began Paul.

“I am looking at the matter in a purely business light, so we can drop sentiment.”

Paul had so little experience in the ways of the world, that the mere fact of giving his acceptance for the money borrowed put him at once at his ease, though he knew well that his name was not a very valuable addition to the slip of paper.

Daddy Tantaine, after a short search through his pockets, discovered a bill stamp, and, placing it on the table, said, “Write as I shall dictate:—­