son of one of their old neighbors in the Rue Neuve-Coquenard, a small
haberdasher, who had not been able to get on, but continued humbly to
sell thread and needles to the thrifty folks of the neighborhood. The
haberdasher, Mother Delarue, as she was called, had remained a widow
after one year of married life. Pierre, her boy, had grown up under the
shadow of the bakery, the cradle of the Desvarennes's fortunes.

On Sundays the mistress would give him a gingerbread or a cracknel, and
amuse herself with his baby prattle. She did not lose sight of him when
she removed to the Rue Vivienne. Pierre had entered the elementary school
of the neighborhood, and by his precocious intelligence and exceptional
application, had not been long in getting to the top of his class. The
boy had left school after gaining an exhibition admitting him to the
Chaptal College. This hard worker, who was in a fair way of making his
own position without costing his relatives anything, greatly interested
Madame Desvarennes. She found in this plucky nature a striking analogy to
herself. She formed projects for Pierre's future; in fancy she saw him
enter the Polytechnic school, and leave it with honors. The young man had
the choice of becoming a mining or civil engineer, and of entering the
government service.

He was hesitating what to do when the mistress came and offered him a
situation in her firm as junior partner; it was a golden bridge that she
placed before him. With his exceptional capacities he was not long in
giving to the house a new impulse. He perfected the machinery, and
triumphantly defied all competition. All this was a happy dream in which
Pierre was to her a real son; her home became his, and she monopolized
him completely. But suddenly a shadow came o'er the spirit of her dreams.
Pierre's mother, the little haberdasher, proud of her son, would she
consent to give him up to a stranger? Oh! if Pierre had only been an