"No thanks, I beg," interposed Dr. Chéron. "Prove your gratitude by your
conduct; do not trouble yourself to talk about it."

"Indeed, sir, you may depend--"

"And no promises either, if you please. I attach no kind of value to
them. Stay--here is my check for the fifty pounds forwarded by your
father. With that sum extricate yourself from debt. You know the rest."

Hereupon Dr. Chéron replaced the cards and the printed form,
double-locked his desk, and, with a slight gesture of the hand, frigidly
dismissed me.

I left the house quite chopfallen. I was relieved, it is true, from the
incubus of debt; but then how small a figure I had cut in the eyes of
Dr. Chéron! Besides, I was small for the second time--reproved for the
second time--lectured, helped, put down, and poohpoohed, for the second
time! Could I have peeped at myself just then through the wrong end of a
telescope, I vow I could not have looked smaller in my own eyes.

I had no time to dine; so I despatched a cup of coffee and a roll on my
way home, and went hungry to the theatre.

Josephine was got up with immense splendor for this occasion; greatly to
her own satisfaction and my disappointment. Having hired a small private
box in the least conspicuous part of the theatre, I had committed the
cowardly mistake of endeavoring to transform my grisette into a woman of
fashion. I had bought her a pink and white opera cloak, a pretty little
fan, a pair of white kid gloves, and a bouquet. With these she wore a