erty;
and, as he fixed upon her his great astonished eyes,

"Yes," she resumed, with an imprudence which fatally was to bear its
fruits, "we are rich; and, if we live as you see, it is because it
suits your father, who wishes to amass a still greater fortune."

This was hardly an answer; and yet Maxence asked no further question.
But he inquired here and there, with that patient shrewdness of young
people possessed with a fixed idea.

Already, at this time, M. Favoral had in the neighborhood, and ever
among his friends, the reputation to be worth at least a million.
The Mutual Credit Society had considerably developed itself: he must,
they thought, have benefitted largely by the circumstance; and the
profits must have swelled rapidly in the hands of so able a man,
and one so noted for his rigid economy.

Such is the substance of what Maxence heard; and people did not fail
to add ironically, that he need not rely upon the paternal fortune
to amuse himself.

M. Desormeaux himself, whom he had "pumped" rather cleverly, had
told him, whilst patting him amicably on the shoulder,

"If you ever need money for your frolics, young man, try and earn
it; for I'll be hanged if it's the old man who'll ever supply it."

Such answers complicated, instead of explaining, the problem which
occupied Maxence.

He observed, he watched; and at last he acquired the certainty that
the money he spent was the fruit of the joint labor of his mother
and sister.

"Ah! why not have told me so?" he exclaimed, throwing his arms
around his mother's neck. "Why have exposed me to the bitter regrets
which I feel at this moment?"

By this sole word the poor woman found herself amply repaid. She
admired the _noblesse_ of her son's feelings and the kindness of his
heart.

"Do you not understand," she told him, shedding tears of joy, "do
you not see, that the labor which can promote her son's pleasure is
a happiness for his mother?"

But he was dismayed at his discovery.

"No matter!" he said. "I swear that I shall no longer scatter to
the winds, as I have been doing, the money that you give me."

For a few weeks, indeed, he was faithful to his pledge. But at
fifteen resolutions are not very stanch. The impressions he had
felt wore off. He became tired of the small privations which he had
to impose upon himself.

He soon came to take to the letter what his mother had told him, and
to prove to his own satisfaction that to deprive him