"No, uncle, you've not compromised anything, and I've nothing to forgive you."
"You wouldn't take the practice if I could still offer it to you?"
"No, uncle."
"Upon your word?"
"Upon my word!"
M. Mouillard drew himself up, beaming:
"Ah! Thank you for that speech, Fabien; you have relieved me of a great weight."
With one corner of his napkin he wiped away two tears, which, having arisen in time of war, continued to flow in time of peace.
"If Mademoiselle Jeanne, in addition to all her other perfections, brings you fortune, Fabien, if your future is assured—"
"My dear Monsieur Mouillard," broke in the Academician with ill-concealed satisfaction. "My colleagues call me rich. They slander me. Works on numismatics do not make a man rich. Monsieur Fabien, who made some investigations into the subject, can prove it to you. No; I possess no more than an honorable competence, which does not give me everything, but lets me lack nothing."