my son?' So long as you did not know
who and what I was, I had a mother's right to watch over you. I could
help you without disgracing you, without despising you. But now that you
know me, and know what I am, I can do nothing more for you--nothing! I
would rather let you starve than succor you, for I would rather see you
dead than dishonored by my money."

"But--"

"What! would you still consent to receive the allowance I have made you,
even if I consented to continue it?"

Had a viper raised its head in M. Wilkie's path he would not have
recoiled more quickly. "Never!" he exclaimed. "Ah, no! What do you take
me for?"

This repugnance was sincere; there could be no doubt of that, and it
seemed to give Madame d'Argeles a ray of hope. "I have misjudged him,"
she thought. "Poor Wilkie! Evil advice has led him astray; but he is not
bad at heart. In that case, my poor child," she said aloud, "you must
see that a new life is about to commence for you. What do you intend to
do? How will you gain a livelihood? People must have food, and clothes,
and a roof to shelter them. These things cost money. And where will
you obtain it--you who rebel at the very word work? Ah! if I had only
listened to M. Patterson. He was not blind like myself. He was always
telling me that I was spoiling you, and ruining your future by giving
you so much money. Do you know that you have spent more than fifty
thousand francs during the past two years? How have you squandered them?
Have you been to the law-school a dozen times? No. But you can be seen
at the races, at the opera, in the fashionable restaurants, and at every
place of amusement where a young man can squander money. And who are
your associates? Dissipated and heartless idlers, grooms, gamblers, and
abandoned women."

A sneer from M. Wilkie interrupted her. To think that any one should
dare to attack his friends, his tastes, and his pleasures. Such a thing
was not to be tolerated. "This is astonishing--astonishing, upon my
word!" said he. "You moralizing! that's really too good! I should like a
few minutes to laugh; it is too ridiculous!"

Was he really conscious of the cruelty of his ironical words? The blow
was so terrible that Madame d'Argeles staggered beneath it. She was
prepared for anything and everything except this insult from her son.
Still, she accepted it without rebellion, although it was in a tone of
heart-broken anguish that she replied: "Perhaps I have no right to tell