living by modelling statuettes like this one?"

"As for that, no!" I replied; "and I think there is no reason to
regret the fact. You say the girl is affectionate and sensitive;
I can well believe you; I could believe it from her face alone. There
are excitements in artist-life which impel generous hearts to act
out of all rule and measure. This young creature is made to love;
keep her for the domestic hearth. There only is real happiness."

"But she has no dowry!" replied Madame de Gabry.

Then, extending her hand to me, she continued:

"You are our friend; I can tell you everything. The father of this
child was a banker, and one of our friends. He went into a colossal
speculation, and it ruined him. He survived only a few months after
his failure, in which, as Paul must have told you, three-fourths of
my uncle's fortune were lost, and more than half of our own.

"We had made his acquaintance at Manaco, during the winter we passed
there at my uncle's house. He had an adventurous disposition, but
such an engaging manner! He deceived himself before ever he deceived
others. After all, it is in the ability to deceive oneself that the
greatest talent is shown, is it not? Well, we were captured--my
husband, my uncle, and I; and we risked much more than a reasonable
amount in a very hazardous undertaking. But, bah! as Paul says,
since we have no children we need not worry about it. Besides, we
have the satisfaction of knowing that the friend in whom we trusted
was an honest man.... You must know his name, it was so often in
the papers an on public placards--Noel Alexandre. His wife was a