In truth, Lucien Grischard, who had just entered the café, was no longer the poverty-stricken youth, in a threadbare coat, with traces of grief and privation on his pinched features. To-day, his eyes were bright, and the expression of his face announced the contentment of his mind; his costume, while not dandified, denoted that its owner was in comfortable circumstances; lastly, his face wore a cordial smile, as he shook hands with the three persons whom he joined, and who had already noted with pleasure the happy change that had taken place in him.
"Good-morning, messieurs, good-morning!" he said, with a joyous intonation in his voice. "I am the last to come, but you will forgive me when you know what has detained me."
"How are you, Lucien? This much we see already, with the greatest pleasure—that your position has changed for the better; for you seem perfectly content; we can read that in your face."
"And why should I not be, messieurs! I am going to marry the woman I love. In a week, Juliette will be my wife. Monsieur Mirotaine has consented at last to call me his son-in-law. My dearest wish is fulfilled."
"How did you succeed in gaining your end? Tell us about it."
"By hard work and perseverance; my pins were a success, and I was making money; I invented something else, so that I made still more, and I succeeded in extending my business. But how was I to let Monsieur Mirotaine know that, when he had forbidden me to go to his house? That was the difficulty; it was absolutely necessary that I should see Juliette, in order to tell her all that I was doing; it was necessary to have a definite understanding with her, and to give her precise details concerning my position and prospects, so that she could say to her father: 'You can go to this place and that place, and there you will learn where Lucien stands.'—Luckily, Juliette has a friend, who came to our assistance. This friend obtained permission quite often to take Juliette out with her, sometimes to bathe, sometimes to go shopping; but, as a matter of fact, the two ladies would meet me at the Jardin des Plantes; there I could arrange with Juliette what she was to say to her father about my position."
"At the Jardin des Plantes!" interposed Adhémar; "you say those ladies used to meet you there?"
"To be sure. And one day, when I had some very good news to tell Juliette,—I wanted to tell her that I had succeeded in a new business undertaking,—as she was not very well, her friend, Madame Dermont, was kind enough to come alone to our usual place of meeting. I told her that I had succeeded, and she lost no time in going to tell Juliette the good news; and it was then that Monsieur Mirotaine, convinced at last that we were not imposing on him and that I really was able to earn money, opened his house to me again, and consented to give me his daughter's hand."
Dubotté and Dodichet congratulated Lucien. But Adhémar did not say a word to him; for what he had just heard had produced such a revolution in his whole being, that he was like one turned to stone, and had not the strength to speak.
"Well!" said Dubotté, rising and taking his hat; "it is a satisfaction to me to know that we have all arrived at the goal we had in view. Poor Dodichet alone has steadily fallen lower and lower. Though, after all, it's his own fault! He shouldn't have prompted a lover to say: 'Oh! how you tire me!'—But, no matter; you know my address, Dodichet, don't you? And when you are—cleaned out, come and dine with me; I always have a cover laid for an old friend who is in hard luck. Excuse me for leaving you, messieurs; but I must go and make sure that Callé can take my wife to the theatre to-night."