im
home to the vicarage. The day had been rainy and cold. Jean was sitting
by the fireside; the priest was reading his breviary opposite him. Old
Pauline came and went, arranging her affairs.

An hour passed without a word, when Jean, raising his head, said:

"Godfather, did my father leave me any money?"

This question was so extraordinary that the old priest, stupefied, could
scarcely believe that he heard aright.

"You ask if your father--"

"I asked if my father left me some money?"

"Yes; he must have left you some."

"A good deal, don't you think? I have often heard people say that my
father was rich. Tell me about how much he has left me!"

"But I don't know. You ask--"

The poor old man felt his heart rent in twain. Such a question at such a
moment! Yet he thought he knew the boy's heart, and in that heart there
should not be room for such thoughts.

"Pray, dear godfather, tell me," continued Jean, gently. "I will explain
to you afterward why I ask that."

"Well, they say your father had 200,000 or 300,000 francs."

"And is that much?"

"Yes, it is a great deal."

"And it is all mine?"

"Yes, it is all yours."

"Oh! I am glad, because, you know, the day that my father was killed in
the war, the Prussians killed, at the same time, the son of a poor woman
in Longueval--old Clemence, you know; and they killed, too, the brother
of Rosalie, with whom I used to play when I was quite little. Well,
since I am rich and they are poor, I will divide with Clemence and
Rosalie the money my father has left me."

On hearing these words the Cure rose, took Jean by both hands, and drew
him into his arms. The white head rested on the fair one. Two large
tears escaped from the eyes of the old priest, rolled slowly down his
cheeks, and were lost in the furrows of his face.

However, the Cure was obliged to explain to Jean that, though he was his
father's heir, he had not the right of disposing of his heritage as
he would. There would be a family council, and a guardian would be
appointed.

"You, no doubt, godfather?"

"No, not I, my child; a priest has not the right of exercising the
functions of a guardian. They will, I think, choose Monsieur Lenient,
the lawyer in Souvigny, who was one of your father's best friends. You
can speak to him and tell him what you wish."

M. Lenient was eventually appointed guardian, and Jean urged his wishes
so eagerly and touchingly that the lawyer consented to deduct from