essential of the philosopher, but there he stayed, an undeveloped
chrysalis.

His look was abstracted still as he took the hand of the widow of Palass
Poucette; but he spoke cheerfully. "It is a pleasure, madame, to welcome
you among my friends," he said.

He made a little flourish with the book which had so long been his bosom
friend, and added: "But I hope you are in no trouble that you come to me
--so many come to me in their troubles," he continued with an air of
satisfaction.

"Come to you--why, you have enough troubles of your own!" she made
answer. "It's because you have your own troubles that I'm here."

"Why you are here," he remarked vaguely.

There was something very direct and childlike in Virginie Poucette. She
could not pretend; she wore her heart on her sleeve. She travelled a
long distance in a little while.

"I've got no trouble myself," she responded. "But, yes, I have," she
added. "I've got one trouble--it's yours. It's that you've been having
hard times--the flour-mill, your cousin Auguste Charron, the lawsuits,
and all the rest. They say at Vilray that you have all you can do to
keep out of the Bankruptcy Court, and that--"

Jean Jacques started, flushed, and seemed about to get angry; but she put
things right at once.