I will prove it to-morrow, every hour of my life, always, for our friendship is not one of those which fade away." His mother, deeply moved, murmured: "Well said, my boy." But Beausire cried out: "Come, Mme.

Rosemilly, speak on behalf of the fair sex." She raised her glass, and in a pretty voice, slightly touched with sadness, she said: "I will pledge you to the memory of M.Marechal." There was a few moments' lull, a pause for decent meditation, as after prayer.

Beausire, who always had a flow of compliment, remarked: "Only a woman ever thinks of these refinements." Then turning to Father Roland: "And who was this Marechal, after all?
You must have been very intimate with him." The old man, emotional with drink, began to whimper, and in a broken voice he said: "Like a brother, you know.

Such a friend as one does not make twice--we were always together--he dined with us every evening--and would treat us to the play--I need say no more--no more--no more.

A true friend--a real true friend--wasn't he, Louise ?" His wife merely answered: "Yes; he was a faithful friend." Pierre looked at his father and then at his mother, then, as the subject changed he drank some more wine.