old man any longer, this man who thought he was going to live to the end of his days at the Priory and whom I was about to drive out. . . and where was he to go? ... He had served us faithfully, he was almost one of our family, poor, unable to gain a livelihood otherwise. And I was going to chase him out! . . . Ah! How could I bring myself to do that?

At breakfast Marie seemed nervous. She walked around my chair, unusually excited.

" Beg pardon ! " she said to me at last, " I must clear up all my doubts about this matter. ... Is it true that you are selling the Priory? . . ."

" Yes, Marie."

The old woman opened wide her eyes, stupefied, and, placing her hands on the table, repeated :

"You are selling the Priory?"

" Yes, Marie."

"The Priory where all your family was born? . . . The Priory where your father and your mother died? . . . The Priory, Holy Jesus ! "

" Yes, Marie."

She recoiled as if frightened.

" Then you are a wicked son, Monsieur Jean ! "

I made no reply. Marie left the dining room and did not speak to me any more.

Two days later, my business having been attended to, the deed signed, I left. . . . My money was hardly enough to last me a month. ... I was done for ! Overwhelming debts, ignoble debts was all that was left to me ! . . . Ah ! if the train could only carry me on and on, always further on, never to arrive anywhere! ... It was only in Paris that I reminded myself that I had not even gone to kneel down at the grave of my father and mother.

Juliette received me tenderly. She embraced me passionately.