king a violent
movement on the part of the angry father. "I have the strangest
confession to make to you, a shameful one for a man of honor; but the
worst punishment of my conduct, natural enough in itself, is not
the telling of it to you; no, I fear the daughter even more than the
father."

Ernest then related simply, and with the nobleness that comes of
sincerity, all the facts of his little drama, not omitting the twenty or
more letters, which he had brought with him, nor the interview which he
had just had with Canalis. When Monsieur Mignon had finished reading the
letters, the unfortunate lover, pale and suppliant, actually trembled
under the fiery glance of the Provencal.

"Monsieur," said the latter, "in this whole matter there is but one
error, but that is cardinal. My daughter will not have six millions;
at the utmost, she will have a marriage portion of two hundred thousand
francs, and very doubtful expectations."

"Ah, monsieur!" cried Ernest, rising and grasping Monsieur Mignon's
hand; "you take a load from my breast. Nothing can now hinder my
happiness. I have friends, influence; I shall certainly be chief of
the Court of Claims. Had Mademoiselle Mignon no more than ten thousand
francs, if I had even to make a settlement on her, she should still be
my wife; and to make her happy as you, monsieur, have made your wife
happy, to be to you a real son (for I have no father), are the deepest
desires of my heart."

Charles Mignon stepped back three paces and fixed upon La Briere a look
which entered the eyes of the young man as a dagger enters its sheath;
he stood silent a moment, recognizing the absolute candor, the pure
truthfulness of that open nature in the light of the young man's
inspired eyes. "Is fate at last weary of pursuing me?" he asked himself.
"Am I to find in this young man the pearl of sons-in-law?" He walked up
and down the room in strong agitation.

"Monsieur," he said at last, "you are bound to submit wholly to the
judgment which you have come here to seek, otherwise you are now playing
a farce."

"Oh, monsieur!"

"Listen to me," said the father, nailing La Briere where he stood with a
glance. "I shall be neither harsh, nor hard, nor unjust. You shall have
the advantages and the disadvantages of the false position in which you
have placed yourself. My daughter believes that she loves one of the
great poets of the day, whose fame is really that which has attracted
her. Well, I, her fath