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Lucienne were having a great discussion.

"That's all nonsense," shrieked the worthy, landlady; "and I meanto be paid."Mlle. Lucienne was quite calm.

"Well," she replied: "don't I pay you? Here are forty francs,- thirty in advance for my room, and ten on the old account.""I don't want your ten francs!""What do you want, then?""Ah, - the hundred and fifty francs which you owe me still."The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"You forget our agreement," she uttered.

"Our agreement?""Yes. After the Commune, it was understood that I would give youten francs a month on the old account; as long as I give them toyou, you have nothing to ask."Crimson with rage, Mme. Fortin had risen from her seat.

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"Formerly," she interrupted, "I presumed I had to deal with a poorworking-girl, an honest girl."Mlle. Lucienne took no notice of the insult.

"I have not the amount you ask," she said coldly.

"Well, then," vociferated the other, "you must go and ask it ofthose who pay for your carriages and your dresses."Still impassible, the girl, instead of answering, stretched herhand towards her key; but M. Fortin stopped her arm.

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"No, no!" he said with a giggle. "People who don't pay theirhotel-bill sleep out, my darling."Maxence, that very morning, had received his month's pay, and hefelt, as it were, his two hundred francs trembling in his pockets.

Yielding to a sudden inspiration, he threw open the office-door,and, throwing down one hundred and fifty francs upon the table,"Here is your money, wretch!" he exclaimed. And he withdrew atonce.

  Maxence had not spoken to Mlle. Lucienne for nearly a month. Hetried to persuade himself that she despised him because he was poor.

He kept watching for her, for he could not help it; but as much aspossible he avoided her.