show him the door.
There will come a time, perhaps, when the law, grown wiser, will
condemn to six months' imprisonment, not only every man who takes
more than five per cent., but also him who offers it. You have a
million, you tell me. Well, then, my son, keep it carefully, and do
not try to get others with it. You may possess a million, but if
you get more the millions will possess you. There is no real
happiness except in security and in obscurity. The kind that has to
be sought far afield is ephemeral. Long voyages may make life
interesting, but happy, no. Happiness is only to be found at home
with our dear ones. Life is so short that each time you leave your
good home to seek adventures you are robbing yourself. That is
Fanchette's opinion, too, mind you. Of course, all this does not
prevent us from loving you and following you with our thoughts
wherever you are, nor from praying the great God to bring you
safely to port, but at the same time to rid your head of these
ideas of adventure which torment me so. In a corner of the drawer
where you will find this letter you will find also, carefully
rolled and wrapped, and all in good gold coin (you may say what you
please, but I do not like paper), the 8,000 francs that you have
sent me on New Year's Day for the past four years. You will find
them intact. God be praised! I have not needed to use them. I have
taken care of them for you, and--who knows?--you may be very glad
one day to have them. My regret is that you did not offer years
back to send me twenty thousand instead of two. I should have
accepted every franc of it, and it would have been as much money
saved from that miserable American gold mine or some other
speculations, which, believe me, are bound to be just as mad.

'Thank you, my darling son, for the kind impulse that prompted you
to send the money. In the future buy three per cents., give up your
travels, and stay at home with your dear ones who adore you. My
dear, generous son, when you read these lines I shall be no more of
this world. Do not forget your old mother, who has lived only for
you, who has been proud of her son, and now thanks him for all the
happiness that his love and devotion have brought her.'

* * * * *

Fanchette is installed in the fine house that Henri occ