A PORTRAIT FROM LIFE

From the manner with which the Latournelles entered the Chalet a
stranger would readily have guessed that they came there every
evening.

"Ah, you are here already," said the notary, perceiving the young
banker Gobenheim, a connection of Gobenheim-Keller, the head of the
great banking house in Paris.

This young man with a livid face--a blonde of the type with black
eyes, whose immovable glance has an indescribable fascination, sober
in speech as in conduct, dressed in black, lean as a consumptive, but
nevertheless vigorously framed--visited the family of his former
master and the house of his cashier less from affection than from
self-interest. Here they played whist at two sous a point; a
dress-coat was not required; he accepted no refreshment except "eau
sucree," and consequently had no civilities to return. This apparent
devotion to the Mignon family allowed it to be supposed that Gobenheim
had a heart; it also released him from the necessity of going into the
society of Havre and incurring useless expenses, thus upsetting the
orderly economy of his domestic life. This disciple of the golden calf
went to bed at half-past ten o'clock and got up at five in the
morning. Moreover, being perfectly sure of Latournelle's and Butscha's
discretion, he could talk over difficult business matters, obtain the
advice of the notary gratis, and get an inkling of the real truth of
the gossip of the street. This stolid gold-glutton (the epithet is
Butscha's) belonged by nature to the class of substances which
chemistry terms absorbents. Ever since the catastrophe of the house of