that at the time when our history begins she was the hidden oracle of the two functionaries, her husband and father, who had, unconsciously, come to do nothing whatever without consulting her.  Old Saillard would say, innocently, “Isn’t she clever, that Elisabeth of mine?” But Baudoyer, too great a fool not to be puffed up by the false reputation the quartier Saint-Antoine bestowed upon him, denied his wife’s cleverness all the while that he was making use of it.

Elisabeth had long felt sure that her uncle Bidault, otherwise called Gigonnet, was rich and handled vast sums of money.  Enlightened by self-interest, she had come to understand Monsieur des Lupeaulx far better than the minister understood him.  Finding herself married to a fool, she never allowed herself to think that life might have gone better with her, she only imagined the possibility of better things without expecting or wishing to attain them.  All her best affections found their vocation in her love for her daughter, to whom she spared the pains and privations she had borne in her own childhood; she believed that in this affection she had her full share in the world of feeling.  Solely for her daughter’s sake she had persuaded her father to take the important step of going into partnership with Falleix.  Falleix had been brought to the Saillard’s house by old Bidault, who lent him money on his merchandise.  Falleix thought his old countryman extortionate, and complained to the Saillards that Gigonnet demanded eighteen per cent from an Auvergnat.  Madame Saillard ventured to remonstrate with her uncle.

“It is just because he is an Auvergnat that I take only eighteen per cent,” said Gigonnet, when she spoke of him.

Falleix, who had made a discovery at the age of twenty-eight, and communicated it to Saillard, seemed to carry his heart in his hand (an expression of old Saillard’s), and also seemed likely to make a great fortune.  Elisabeth determined to husband him for her daughter and train him herself, having, as she calculated, seven years to do it in.  Martin Falleix felt and showed the deepest respect for Madame Baudoyer, whose superior qualities he was able to recognize.  If he were fated to make millions he would always belong to her family, where he had found a home.  The little Baudoyer girl was already trained to bring him his tea and to take his hat.

On the evening of which we write, Monsieur Saillard, returning from the ministry, found a game of boston in full blast; Elisabeth was advising Falleix how to play; Madame Saillard was knitting in the chimney-corner and overlooking the cards of the vicar; Monsieur Baudoyer, motionless as a mile-stone, was employing his mental capacity in calculating how the cards were placed, and sat opposite to Mitral, who had come up from Ile-d’Adam for the Christmas holidays.  No one moved as the cashier entered, and for some minutes he walked up and down the room, his fat face contracted with unaccustomed thought.