More enthusiastic than ever about his pupil, the Signor GismondoPulei never tired of singing his praise, and with such pomp ofexpression, and so curious an exuberance of gesticulation, that Mme.

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Favoral was much amused; and, on the days when she was present ather daughter's lesson, she was the first to inquire,"Well, how is that famous pupil?"And, according to what Marius had, told him,"He is swimming in the purest satisfaction," answered the candidmaestro. "Every thing succeeds miraculously well, and much beyondhis hopes."Or else, knitting his brows-"He was sad yesterday," he said, "owing to an unexpecteddisappointment; but he does not lose courage. We shall succeed."The young girl could not help smiling to see her mother assistingthus the unconscious complicity of the Signor Gismondo. Then shereproached herself for having smiled, and for having thus come,through a gradual and fatal descent, to laugh at a duplicity atwhich she would have blushed in former times. In spite of herself,however, she took a passionate interest in the game that was beingplayed between her mother and herself, and of which her secret wasthe stake. It was an ever-palpitating interest in her hithertomonotonous life, and a source of constantly-renewed emotions.

The days became weeks, and the weeks months; and Mme. Favoralrelaxed her useless surveillance, and, little by little, gave itup almost entirely. She still thought, that, at a certain moment,something unusual had occurred to her daughter; but she feltpersuaded, that, whatever that was, it had been forgotten.

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So that, on the stated days, Mlle. Gilberte could go and lean uponthe window, without fear of being called to account for the emotionwhich she felt when M. de Tregars appeared. At the expected hour,invariably, and with a punctuality to shame M. Favoral himself, heturned the corner of the Rue Turenne, exchanged a rapid glance withthe young girl, and passed on.

His health was completely restored; and with it he had recoveredthat graceful virility which results from the perfect blending ofsuppleness and strength. But he no longer wore the plain garmentsof former days. He was dressed now with that elegant simplicitywhich reveals at first sight that rarest of objects, - a "perfectgentleman." And, whilst she accompanied him with her eyes as hewalked towards the Boulevard, she felt thoughts of joy and priderising from the bottom of her soul.

"Who would ever imagine," thought she, "that this young gentlemanwalking away yonder is my affianced husband, and that the day isperhaps not far, when, having become his wife, I shall lean uponhis arm? Who would think that all my thoughts belong to him, thatit is for my sake that he has given up the ambition of his life,and is now prosecuting another object? Who would suspect that itis for Gilberte Favoral's sake that the Marquis de Tregars iswalking in the Rue St. Gilles?"And, indeed, Marius did deserve some credit for these walks; forwinter had come, spreading a thick coat of mud over the pavementof all those little streets which are always forgotten by thestreet-cleaners.

The cashier's home had resumed its habits of before the war, itsdrowsy monotony scarcely disturbed by the Saturday dinner, by M.

Desclavette's naivetes or old Desormeaux's puns.

Maxence, in the mean time, had ceased to live with his parents. Hehad returned to Paris immediately after the Commune; and, feeling nolonger in the humor to submit to the paternal despotism, he hadtaken a small apartment on the Boulevard du Temple; but, at thepressing instance, of his mother, he had consented to come everynight to dine at the Rue St. Gilles.

Faithful to his oath, he was working hard, though without gettingon very fast. The moment was far from propitious; and the occasion,which he had so often allowed to escape, did not offer itself again.

For lack of any thing better, he had kept his clerkship at therailway; and, as two hundred francs a month were not quite sufficientfor his wants, he spent a portion of his nights copying documentsfor M. Chapelain's successor.

"What do you need so much money for?" his mother said to him whenshe noticed his eyes a little red.

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"Every thing is so dear!" he answered with a smile, which wasequivalent to a confidence, and yet which Mme. Favoral did notunderstand.

He had, nevertheless, managed to pay all his debts, little bylittle. The day when, at last, he held in his hand the lastreceipted bill, he showed it proudly to his father, begging him tofind him a place at the Mutual Credit, where, with infinitely lesstrouble, he could earn so much more.

M. Favoral commenced to giggle.