"The boy shan't go, unless I pay for the tickets." "But, Monsieur...." "Nothing of the kind, sir.

I cannot hear of it.

What are the prices of the seats ?" Our little visitor looked down and was silent; but I replied for him.
"The reserved seats," I whispered, "are half-a-crown each." "Then I will take eight reserved," said my father, opening a drawer in his desk and bringing out a bright, new sovereign.
The little Frenchman started.

He could hardly believe in such munificence.
"When?
How much ?" stammered he, with a pleasant confusion of adverbs.
"Eight," growled my father, scarcely able to repress a smile.
"Eight?
_mon Dieu_, Monsieur, how you are generous! I shall keep for you all the first row." "Oblige me by doing nothing of the kind," said my father, very decisively.

"It would displease me extremely." The Chevalier counted out the eight little pink cards, and ranged them in a row beside my father's desk.
"Count them, Monsieur, if you please," said he, his eyes wandering involuntarily towards the sovereign.
My father did so with much gravity, and handed over the money.
The Chevalier consigned it, with trembling fingers, to a small canvas bag, which looked very empty, and which came from the deepest recesses of his pocket.
"Monsieur," said he, "my thanks are in my heart.