CHAPTER VII.
FROM LEON VERDIER, IN PARIS, TO PROSPER GOBAIN, AT LILLE.
September 28th.
My Dear Prosper--It is a long time since I have given you of my news, and I don't know what puts it into my head to-night to recall myself to your affectionate memory.

I suppose it is that when we are happy the mind reverts instinctively to those with whom formerly we shared our exaltations and depressions, and _je t'eu ai trop dit, dans le bon temps, mon gros Prosper_, and you always listened to me too imperturbably, with your pipe in your mouth, your waistcoat unbuttoned, for me not to feel that I can count upon your sympathy to-day.

_Nous en sommes nous flanquees des confidences_--in those happy days when my first thought in seeing an adventure _poindre a l'horizon_ was of the pleasure I should have in relating it to the great Prosper.

As I tell thee, I am happy; decidedly, I am happy, and from this affirmation I fancy you can construct the rest.

Shall I help thee a little?
Take three adorable girls.