counsellor practising — he thought less briskly than
usual — her favourite pieces of music. As he
descended the stairs, he met Madame Perrin
entering the house, and wiping her heated
face, as she gave money to a cab-driver.
Madame is fond of speed, thought Adolphe,
as he noticed small spots of foam upon the
flanks of the cab-horse.

Love, in modern times, has been the tailor's
best friend. Every suitor of the nineteenth
century spends more than his spare cash
on personal adornments. A faultless fit, a
glistening hat, tight gloves, and tighter boots
proclaim the imminent peril of his position.
Adolphe was hardly in love; he was hardly
upon the uttermost circle of the whirlpool.
Yet, had he closely examined the current of
his thoughts, he would have found that they
were almost imperceptibly falling into the
fatal circles. The proof was, that it
suddenly occurred to him that his hat was
shabby and that his gloves were soiled; that
he was tempted, in the Rue Vivienne, to buy
a very showy dressing-gown; that he ordered
home some patent-leather boots; and, if
further proof were wanting, that he bought a
fresh stick of cire de moustache. Then he
turned towards the Rue Richelieu with a
lighter step than usual.

He found Monsieur Perrin at home, and
in the bureau. Glancing sternly at the young
man's new light gloves, he asked him coldly
for the keys of the desk. Adolphe, accustomed
to the serious moods of his patron, gave him
the keys carelessly enough, as he excused
himself for his inability to work at his books
that day. Monsieur Perrin silently opened
the desk, drew out the books, and began to
examine them. Adolphe thought the cool
speculator wanted to see exactly the state
in which he stood with the suicide of
yesterday. The master threw off his hat
as he went deeper into the figures; and
then turned to Adolphe, telling him to go
to the Rue Trouchet and there wait till
Monsieur Biche — his client — came in. He was to
be sure and see him, and tell him that if he
chose to sell his dock shares he might realise
ten francs at their last quotation. Adolphe
departed on his errand, having been told to
close the door gently behind him, as madame
was ill.

He had no sooner departed than
Monsieur Perrin hastily shut the little gate
to the partition, behind which the desk was
placed, and went again nervously to his
examination. Julie entered the room
timidly, to tell her father that her mother
seemed to be very ill; but Monsieur Perrin
only bade her leave him. He was
engaged. As the affrightened girl closed the
door, she started to hear a volley of terrible
oaths uttered in a shrieked whisper from
behind the partition. What could be the
matter! " Scoundrel! thief! " muttered
Monsieur Perrin, as he chinked the gold and
ruffled the bank-paper in the desk. At last
he closed the desk with a slam; locked it;
buttoned the keys securely in his pocket, as
if he feared they might be filched from him,
and strode through the salon to madame's
bed-room. Julie watched him, and trembled.
She heard him talk in low, rapid sentences
to her mother. In a few minutes the door
was re-opened, and Monsieur Perrin appeared
with his coat buttoned up to the chin. It is
curious, but no Frenchman takes a strong
resolution without buttoning his coat to its
highest button-hole.

"Go to your mother," said the broker to
his child, waving his hand impatiently, as he
walked rapidly through the salon.

Julie went to her mother's bed-room. To
her astonishment she heard that they were
both going into the country that night. Julie
saw that her mother's eyes were red. Had
she been crying ? No; years had passed
away since Madame Perrin had shed a tear.
Julie would have been delighted to feel one
dripping from her upon her own cheeks.

"Don't stand staring at me, child," said
the invalid. " Tell Madeleine that we go to-
night to Tours."

Julie went, sad and confused enough, on
her errand. She had to pass through the
bureau to reach the kitchen. As she was
about to leave it, there was a knock. She
turned aside, and opened the door. It was
Adolphe. He raised his hat to his pretty
counsellor of the morning. She was looking
very doleful. Poor girl, she had felt more than
an ordinary interest in him for many months.
She had regarded him as the only bit of honest
nature in the house; and now, the thought
of being buried in her mother's country-
home, near Tours, was no pleasant prospect.
Adolphe at once questioned her; and, in
reply, heard a plain description of all that had
passed since he left. He, too, heard the news
of Julie's departure with vivid regret. A key
put in the lock of the door disturbed them.
Julie flew on her errand, and Adolphe seated
himself at the desk, as Monsieur Perrin
entered, telling somebody behind him to
wait one minute without. On seeing Adolphe,
however, he stepped a pace or two back,
and beckoned to his companion. A sergent-
de-ville entered the bureau. Monsieur
Perrin pointed out Adolphe; and, saying
to the police-officer " Do your duty!"
walked hastily into the salon, shutting the
door firmly behind him.

We pass over the indignation of Adolphe.
Julie, who returned from the kitchen while
Adolphe was expostulating with the officer,
was caught by the arm by her father, who
heard her voice and her sobbing. The young
man was soon on his way over the Pont
NÅ“uf to the Prefecture, pale and speechless
with anger. He soon learned, when he had
threaded three or four of the large and
gloomy passages of the sombre Conciergerie,
past rows of sallow detectives, that Monsieur
Perrin had charged him with robbery. His