"Last night, madam," answered the unfortunate young man, "I was beside myself. O madam, if you knew all!"
"I do know all," replied the lady.
"What! that I had been gambling—that I had thrown away—yes, those are the words—every ducat of the money my poor father furnished me with to purchase my commission?"
"Yes, I know all that. But the loss is not irreparable."
"Pardon me, madam. My father, though reputed wealthy, is unable to furnish me with a similar sum, even if I were base enough to accept it at his hands."
"But if some friend were to step forward."
"Alas! I know none."
"Mr. Walstein," said the lady, "I am rich. A loan of the requisite amount would not affect me in the least."
"O madam!" cried the young man, "if you would indeed save me by such generosity, you would be an angel of mercy."
"What is the amount of your loss?" inquired the lady, calmly, as she unlocked her desk.