in oils of Quenu and Lisa, in ornate oval frames.  Quenu had a smiling face, while Lisa wore an air of grave propriety; and both were dressed in black and depicted in flattering fashion, their features idealised, their skins wondrously smooth, their complexions soft and pinky.  A carpet, in the Wilton style, with a complicated pattern of roses mingling with stars, concealed the flooring; while in front of the bed was a fluffy mat, made out of long pieces of curly wool, a work of patience at which Lisa herself had toiled while seated behind her counter.  But the most striking object of all in the midst of this array of new furniture was a great square, thick-set secretaire, which had been re-polished in vain, for the cracks and notches in the marble top and the scratches on the old mahogany front, quite black with age, still showed plainly.  Lisa had desired to retain this piece of furniture, however, as Uncle Gradelle had used it for more than forty years.  It would bring them good luck, she said.  It’s metal fastenings were truly something terrible, it’s lock was like that of a prison gate, and it was so heavy that it could scarcely be moved.

When Florent and Quenu entered the room they found Lisa seated at the lowered desk of the secretaire, writing and putting down figures in a big, round, and very legible hand.  She signed to them not to disturb her, and the two men sat down.  Florent looked round the room, and notably at the two portraits, the bed and the timepiece, with an air of surprise.

“There!” at last exclaimed Lisa, after having carefully verified a whole page of calculations.  “Listen to me now; we have an account to render to you, my dear Florent.”

It was the first time that she had so addressed him.  However, taking up the page of figures, she continued:  “Your Uncle Gradelle died without leaving a will.  Consequently you and your brother are his sole heirs.  We now have to hand your share over to you.”

“But I do not ask you for anything!” exclaimed Florent, “I don’t wish for anything!”

Quenu had apparently been in ignorance of his wife’s intentions.  He turned rather pale and looked at her with an expression of displeasure.  Of course, he certainly loved his brother dearly; but there was no occasion to hurl his uncle’s money at him in this way.  There would have been plenty of time to go into the matter later on.

“I know very well, my dear Florent,” continued Lisa, “that you did not come back with the intention of claiming from us what belongs to you; but business is business, you know, and we had better get things settled at once.  Your uncle’s savings amounted to eighty-five thousand francs.  I have therefore put down forty-two thousand five hundred to your credit.  See!”

She showed him the figures on the sheet of paper.

“It is unfortunately not so easy to value the shop, plant, stock-in-trade, and goodwill.  I have only been able to put down approximate amounts, but I don’t think I have underestimated anything.  Well, the total valuation which I have made comes to fifteen thousand three hundred and ten francs; your half of which is seven thousand six hundred and fifty-five francs, so that your share amounts, in all, to fifty thousand one hundred and fifty-five francs.  Please verify it for yourself, will you?”