his eyes lighting up at a handful of gold
which Charles was carrying.

"Monsieur, I have collected all my buttons and rings and other
superfluities which may have some value; but not knowing any one in
Saumur, I wanted to ask you to--"

"To buy them?" said Grandet, interrupting him.

"No, uncle; only to tell me of an honest man who--"

"Give me those things, I will go upstairs and estimate their value; I
will come back and tell you what it is to a fraction. Jeweller's gold,"
examining a long chain, "eighteen or nineteen carats."

The goodman held out his huge hand and received the mass of gold, which
he carried away.

"Cousin," said Grandet, "may I offer you these two buttons? They can
fasten ribbons round your wrists; that sort of bracelet is much the
fashion just now."

"I accept without hesitation," she answered, giving him an understanding
look.

"Aunt, here is my mother's thimble; I have always kept it carefully in
my dressing-case," said Charles, presenting a pretty gold thimble to
Madame Grandet, who for many years had longed for one.

"I cannot thank you; no words are possible, my nephew," said the poor
mother, whose eyes filled with tears. "Night and morning in my prayers I
shall add one for you, the most earnest of all--for those who travel. If
I die, Eugenie will keep this treasure for you."

"They are worth nine hundred and eighty-nine francs, seventy-five
centimes," said Grandet, opening the door. "To save you the pain of
selling them, I will advance the money--in _livres_."

The word _livres_ on the littoral of the Loire signifies that crown
prices of six _livres_ are to be accepted as six francs without
deduction.

"I dared not propose it to you," answered Charles; "but it was most
repugnant to me to sell my jewels to some second-hand dealer in your own
town. People should wash their dirty linen at home, as Napoleon said. I
thank you for your kindness."

Grandet scratched his ear, and there was a moment's silence.

"My dear uncle," resumed Charles, looking at him with an uneasy air, as
if he feared to wound his feelings, "my aunt and cousin have been kind
enough to accept a trifling remembrance of me. Will you allow me to give
you these sleeve-buttons, which are useless to me now? They will remind
you of a poor fellow who, far away, will always think of those who are
henceforth all his family."

"My lad, my lad, you mustn't rob yourself this way! Let me see, wife,
what have you got?" h