I spoke lightly of a
loss at cards I had undergone, I did not doubt that some day I would be
obliged to tell you all that had taken place. I was wrong, however, in
forbidding you to beware of what I had spoken of; for I should have
known that there are passions, like other diseases, which a father
transmits to his children. The body, like the soul, inherits them. I
however pardon and forget all I have mentioned."

Henri clasped the old man's hand, and Aminta kissed the Prince.

"I will," said the latter, "only pardon you on the terms imposed on me
by my generous friend Rovero. You will swear to me, on your honor, that
you will never play again, and I will confide in you as he did in me."

"I do swear," said the Marquis, "and will die if I ever break my oath."

"Now listen to me, my children," said the Prince, kindly; "I have a
hundred thousand francs a year--I will allow you fifty. A similar sum
satisfies me. To protect you, however, from all temptations to
extravagance, I give you the income and not the capital, and as a reward
of my indulgence, as a recompense of my courage in making the confession
of a great error of my life, make your wife happy, reward her by
tenderness for the care you have subjected her to, for the uneasiness
she has known, and my heart will be gratified for the bliss she will owe
you, as something to discharge my debt to her father."

The Prince clasped his children to his heart and left. While this was
occurring at the Hotel de Maulear, a storm overhung the hospitable roof
of Mme. Fanny de Bruneval. This house had been correctly estimated by
the Prince de Maulear, angry as he naturally was at the sums lost by his
son in those saloons. Madame de Bruneval assumed the military title of
widow of an ex-colonel of the Imperial Guard. There had really been such
a colonel on the _roles_ of the _grande armee_. Such a soldier had not
only had flesh and blood, but crosses and decorations. He had beaten,
and well beaten, the Austrians, but had lost his horse at Leipsic, and
been cut down by one of the black hussars of Brunswick. All this was
real, positive, and printed in black and white. There was no doubt about
it. It was doubtful, though, if the Colonel ever had a wife. The
_Moniteur_ mentioned the battles and the death--it said nothing of
Madame. Colonel de Bruneval, once, during a time of peace--such times
were rare with the Emperor--came to Paris with a lady about forty,
blonde like a German, ro