"To assist your parents, I suppose?"
Paul lowered his eyes, and murmured very low:
"Yes, monsieur; it was for them."
"I understand you now!" cried Monsieur Vermoncey; "you are a good son; you sacrificed your hopes, your future, to what you considered the duty of making yourself useful at once to those who gave you life. Poor fellow! your conduct is very noble. But you must leave a trade which is not for such as you. Yes; I will undertake to find you an honorable and lucrative position."
"Oh! monsieur—such kindness!"
"Why, it is not more than justice. Anyone can see that you ought not to be a messenger. Do you know how to write?"
"Yes, monsieur; my handwriting is not very bad; I know how to figure also."
"Very good. I will find a place for you, never fear. I can't promise that it will be very soon, for here in Paris there are so many applicants for even the smallest places, that there are very few vacancies; but I promise you that—yes, within three months you will have changed your position in life."
"Mon Dieu! what have I done to deserve that you should take so much interest in me?"
"In the first place, all that you did the first time I ever saw you, to help me to find my son; and, secondly, you attracted me at once; I felt that you were a worthy young man. Rely on me hereafter; I propose to replace the protector you have lost."