Dr. Chéron coughed preparatorily.
"It is some time," said he, "since you have given me any news of your father. Do you often hear from him?"
"Not very often, sir," I replied. "About once in every three weeks. He dislikes letter-writing."
Dr. Chéron took a packet of papers from his breast-pocket, and ruffling them over, said, somewhat indifferently:--
"Very true--very true. His notes are brief and few; but always to the purpose. I heard from him this morning."
"Indeed, sir?"
"Yes--here is his letter. It encloses a remittance of seventy-five pounds; fifty of which are for you. The remaining twenty-five being reserved for the defrayal of your expenses at the Ecole de Médecine and the Ecole Pratique."
I was delighted.
"Both are made payable through my banker," continued Dr. Chéron, "and I am to take charge of your share till you require it; which cannot be just yet, as I understand from this letter that your father supplied you with the sum of one hundred and five pounds on leaving England."
My delight went down to zero.