at least eight francs to re-cover it. Eight and eighteen
are twenty-six. Just fancy, twenty-six francs for an umbrella! It is
utter madness!"

The friend, who was only a poor man of the middle classes, had an
inspiration:

"Make your fire assurance pay for it. The companies pay for all articles
that are burned, as long as the damage has been done in your own house."

On hearing this advice the little woman calmed down immediately, and
then, after a moment's reflection, she said to her husband:

"To-morrow, before going to your office, you will go to the Maternelle
Assurance Company, show them the state your umbrella is in, and make
them pay for the damage."

M. Oreille fairly jumped, he was so startled at the proposal.

"I would not do it for my life! It is eighteen francs lost, that is all.
It will not ruin us."

The next morning he took a walking-stick when he went out, and, luckily,
it was a fine day.

Left at home alone, Mme. Oreille could not get over the loss of
her eighteen francs by any means. She had put the umbrella on the
dining-room table, and she looked at it without being able to come to
any determination.

Every moment she thought of the assurance company, but she did not dare
to encounter the quizzical looks of the gentlemen who might receive her,
for she was very timid before people, and blushed at a mere nothing, and
was embarrassed when she had to speak to strangers.

But the regret at the loss of the eighteen francs pained her as if she
had been wounded. She tried not to think of it any more, and yet every
moment the recollection of the loss struck her painfully. What was she
to do, however? Time went on, and she could not decide; but suddenly,
like all cowards, on making a resolve, she became determined.

"I will go, and we will see what will happen."

But first of all she was obliged to prepare the umbrella so that the
disaster might be complete, and the reason of it quite evident. She took
a match from the mantelpiece, and between the ribs she burned a hole as
big as the palm of her hand; then she delicately rolled it up, fastened
it with the elastic band, put on her bonnet and shawl, and went quickly
toward the Rue de Rivoli, where the assurance office was.

But the nearer she got, the slower she walked. What was she going to
say, and what reply would she get?

She looked at the numbers of the houses; there were still twenty-eight.
That was all right, so she had time to consider