swered, obstinately: "I wouldn't sell my child."

The father remained silent. The son continued:

"It is unfortunate to be sacrificed like that."

Then Father Tuvache, in an angry tone, said:

"Are you going to reproach us for having kept you?" And the young man
said, brutally:

"Yes, I reproach you for having been such fools. Parents like you make
the misfortune of their children. You deserve that I should leave you."
The old woman wept over her plate. She moaned, as she swallowed the
spoonfuls of soup, half of which she spilled: "One may kill one's self
to bring up children!"

Then the boy said, roughly: "I'd rather not have been born than be what
I am. When I saw the other, my heart stood still. I said to myself: 'See
what I should have been now!'" He got up: "See here, I feel that I would
do better not to stay here, because I would throw it up to you from
morning till night, and I would make your life miserable. I'll never
forgive you for that!"

The two old people were silent, downcast, in tears.

He continued: "No, the thought of that would be too much. I'd rather
look for a living somewhere else."

He opened the door. A sound of voices came in at the door. The Vallins
were celebrating the return of their child.

COWARD

In society he was called "Handsome Signoles." His name was Vicomte
Gontran-Joseph de Signoles.

An orphan, and possessed of an ample fortune, he cut quite a dash, as it
is called. He had an attractive appearance and manner, could talk well,
had a certain inborn elegance, an air of pride and nobility, a good
mustache, and a tender eye, that always finds favor with women.

He was in great request at receptions, waltzed to perfection, and was
regarded by his own sex with that smiling hostility accorded to the
popular society man. He had been suspected of more than one love affair,
calculated to enhance the reputation of a bachelor. He lived a happy,
peaceful life--a life of physical and mental well-being. He had won
considerable fame as a swordsman, and still more as a marksman.

"When the time comes for me to fight a duel," he said, "I shall choose
pistols. With such a weapon I am sure to kill my man."

One evening, having accompanied two women friends of his with their
husbands to the theatre, he invited them to take some ice cream at
Tortoni's after the performance. They had been seated a few minutes in
the restaurant when Signoles noticed that a man was staring persistentl