eeded it, poor fellow." And she signed: "Your mother, who is dying
for a sight of you, FRANCOISE."

That letter from his mother, whom he had not seen for six years, the
Southern forms of expression in which he recognized familiar
intonations, the coarse handwriting which drew for him a beloved face,
all wrinkled and sunburned and furrowed, but smiling still beneath a
peasant's cap, made a profound impression upon the Nabob. During the
six weeks he had been in France, immersed in the eddying whirl of
Paris, of his installation, he had not once thought of the dear old
soul; and now he saw her in every line. He stood for a moment gazing at
the letter, which shook in his fat fingers.

Then, his emotion having subsided, "Monsieur de Gery," he said, "I am
happy to have the opportunity to repay a little of the kindness your
family has showered upon mine. This very day, if you agree, I take you
into my service. You are well educated, you seem intelligent, you can
be of very great service to me. I have innumerable plans, innumerable
matters in hand. I have been drawn into a multitude of large industrial
undertakings. I need some one to assist me, to take my place at need.
To be sure, I have a secretary, a steward, that excellent Bompain; but
the poor fellow knows nothing of Paris. You will say that you are fresh
from the provinces. But that's of no consequence. Well educated as you
are, a Southerner, open-eyed and adaptable, you will soon get the hang
of the boulevard. At all events, I'll undertake your education in that
direction myself. In a few weeks you shall have a foot as thoroughly
Parisian as mine, I promise you."

Poor man! It was touching to hear him talk about his _Parisian foot_
and his experience, when he was fated never to be more than a beginner.

"Well, it's a bargain, eh? I take you for my secretary. You shall have
a fixed salary which we will agree upon directly; and I will give you a
chance to make your fortune quickly."

And as de Gery, suddenly relieved of all his anxieties as a new-comer,
a petitioner, a neophyte, did not stir for fear of waking from a dream,
the Nabob added in a softer tone:

"Now come and sit here by me, and let us talk a little about mamma."

III.

MEMOIRS OF A CLERK.--A CASUAL GLANCE AT THE "CAISSE TERRITORIALE."

I had just finished my humble morning meal, and, as my custom is, had
bestowed the balance of my provisions in the safe in the directors'
room, a magnificent