had contracted a debt of honor--he had
imprudently lent money to an unscrupulous friend--he was about to be
arrested for debt. And in accordance with the favorable or unfavorable
character of the replies his manner became humble or impertinent, so
that his friends soon learned to judge very accurately of the condition
of his purse by the way he wore his mustaches. He became wise with
experience, however; and on adding all the sums he had received
together, he decided that his family must be very rich to allow him so
much money. And this thought made him anxious to fathom the mystery of
his birth and his infancy. He finally persuaded himself that he was the
son of a great English nobleman--a member of the House of Lords, who was
twenty times a millionaire. And he more than half believed it when he
told his creditors that his lordship, his father, would some day or
other come to Paris and pay all his debts. Unfortunately it was not
M. Wilkie's noble father that arrived, but a letter from M. Patterson,
which was couched as follows:

"MY DEAR SIR, a considerable sum was placed in my hands to meet your
unexpected requirements; and in compliance with your repeated appeals,
I have remitted the entire amount to you. Not a penny remains in my
possession--so that my instructions have been fulfilled. Spare yourself
the trouble of making any fresh demands; they will meet with no reply.
In future you will not receive a penny above your allowance, which in my
opinion is already too large a one for a young man of your age."

This letter proved a terrible blow to Wilkie. What should he do? He felt
that M. Patterson would not revoke his decision; and indeed he wrote him
several imploring letters, in vain. Yet never had his need of money been
so urgent. His creditors were becoming uneasy; bills actually rained in
upon his concierge; his next quarterly allowance was not due for some
time to come, and it was only through the pawnbroker that he could
obtain money for his more pressing requirements. He had begun to
consider himself ruined. He saw himself reduced to dismissing his
carriage, to selling his third share of Pompier de Nanterre and losing
the esteem of all his witty friends.

He was in the depths of despair, when one morning his servant woke
him up with the announcement that the Viscount de Coralth was in the
sitting-room and wished to speak with him on very important business. It
was not usually an easy task to entice M. Wi