I allow him monthly, fifteen hundred francs, and he goes about calling me a niggard, and has already squandered every bit of his poor mother's fortune." He stopped, and turned pale, for at that moment the door opened, and young Gaston, or rather Peter, slouched into the room.
"It is the common fate of fathers to be disappointed in their offspring, and to see the sons who ought to have been their honor and glory the scourge to punish their worldly aspirations," exclaimed the old man.
"Good! that is really a very telling speech," murmured Gaston approvingly, "considering that you have not made a special study of elocution." Fortunately his father did not catch these words, and continued in a voice broken by emotion, "That, M.Andre, is my son, who for twenty years has been my sole care.

Well, believe it or not, as you like, he has been speculating on my death, as you might speculate on a race-horse at Vincennes." "No, no," put in Gaston, but his father stopped him with a disdainful gesture.
"Have at least the courage to acknowledge your fault.

You thought me blind because I said nothing, but your past conduct has opened my eyes." "But, father!" "Do not attempt to deny it.

This very morning my man of business, M.
Catenac, wrote to me, and with that real courage which only true friends possess, told me all.

I must tell you, M.Andre," resumed the contractor, "I was ill.