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"That's the way, always spending my money!" cried the father. "Do you
think there are francs on every bush?"

At this moment a muffled cry, more distressing than all the others,
echoed through the garrets and struck a chill to the hearts of Eugenie
and her mother.

"Nanon, go upstairs and see that he does not kill himself," said
Grandet. "Now, then," he added, looking at his wife and daughter, who
had turned pale at his words, "no nonsense, you two! I must leave you;
I have got to see about the Dutchmen who are going away to-day. And
then I must find Cruchot, and talk with him about all this."

He departed. As soon as he had shut the door Eugenie and her mother
breathed more freely. Until this morning the young girl had never felt
constrained in the presence of her father; but for the last few hours
every moment wrought a change in her feelings and ideas.

"Mamma, how many louis are there in a cask of wine?"

"Your father sells his from a hundred to a hundred and fifty francs,
sometimes two hundred,--at least, so I've heard say."

"Then papa must be rich?"

"Perhaps he is. But Monsieur Cruchot told me he bought Froidfond two
years ago; that may have pinched him."

Eugenie, not being able to understand the question of her father's
fortune, stopped short in her calculations.

"He didn't even see me, the darling!" said Nanon, coming back from her
errand. "He's stretched out like a calf on his bed and crying like the
Madeleine, and that's a blessing! What's the matter with the poor dear
young man!"

"Let us go and console him, mamma; if any one knocks, we can come
down."

Madame Grandet was helpless against the sweet persuasive tones of her
daughter's voice. Eugenie was sublime: she had become a woman. The
two, with beating hearts, went up to Charles's room. The door was
open. The young man heard and saw nothing; plunged in grief, he only
uttered inarticulate cries.

"How he loves his father!" said Eugenie in a low voice.

In the utterance of those words it was impossible to mistake the hopes
of a heart that, unknown to itself, had suddenly become passionate.
Madame Grandet cast a mother's look upon her daughter, and then
whispered in her ear,--

"Take care, you will love him!"

"Love him!" answered Eugenie. "Ah! if you did but know what my father
said to Monsieur Cruchot."

Charles turned over, and saw his aunt and cousin.

"I have lost my father, my poor father! If he had told me his secret
troubles we might have worked together to repair them. My God! my poor
father! I was so sure I should see him again that I think I kissed him
quite coldly--"

Sobs cut short the words.

"We will pray for him," said Madame Grandet. "Resign yourself to the
will of God."

"Cousin," said Eugenie, "take courage! Your loss is irreparable;
therefore think only of saving your honor."

With the delicate instinct of a woman who intuitively puts her mind

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