“Three thousand francs, sir,” replied the jeweler.

“If you will let me have it for two thousand five hundred, it is a bargain.”

The man hesitated, and then replied: “No, sir; that is impossible.”

Du Roy went on: “Come, you can throw in that chronometer for fifteen hundred; that will make four thousand, which I will pay at once. Is it agreed? If not, I will go somewhere else.”

The jeweler, in a state of perplexity, ended by agreeing, saying: “Very good, sir.”

And the journalist, after giving his address, added: “You will have the monogram, G. R. C. , engraved on the chronometer under a baron’s coronet.”

Madeleine, surprised, began to smile, and when they went out, took his arm with a certain affection. She found him really clever and capable. Now that he had an income, he needed a title. It was quite right.

The jeweler bowed them out, saying: “You can depend upon me; it will be ready on Thursday, Baron.”

They paused before the Vaudeville, at which a new piece was being played.

“If you like,” said he, “we will go to the theater this evening. Let us see if we can have a box.”

They took a box, and he continued: “Suppose we dine at a restaurant.”

“Oh, yes; I should like that!”

He was as happy as a king, and sought what else they could do. “Suppose we go and ask Madame de Marelle to spend the evening with us. Her husband is at home, I hear, and I shall be delighted to see him.”