seven years past, has been forced to take a sum of six hundred francs
a year for her son's education from the miserable eighteen hundred
francs of her husband's salary. Yes, monsieur, that is all we have had
to live upon. Therefore, what more can I do for my poor Oscar?
Monsieur Clapart so hates the child that it is impossible for me to
keep him in the house. A poor woman, alone in the world, am I not
right to come and consult the only relation my Oscar has under
heaven?"

"Yes, you are right," said uncle Cardot. "You never told me of all
this before."

"Ah, monsieur!" replied Madame Clapart, proudly, "you were the last to
whom I would have told my wretchedness. It is all my own fault; I
married a man whose incapacity is almost beyond belief. Yes, I am,
indeed, most unhappy."

"Listen to me, madame," said the little old man, "and don't weep; it
is most painful to me to see a fair lady cry. After all, your son
bears the name of Husson, and if my dear deceased wife were living she
would wish to do something for the name of her father and of her
brother--"

"She loved her brother," said Oscar's mother.

"But all my fortune is given to my children, who expect nothing from
me at my death," continued the old man. "I have divided among them the
millions that I had, because I wanted to see them happy and enjoying
their wealth during my lifetime. I have nothing now except an annuity;
and at my age one clings to old habits. Do you know the path on which