itself in his mind, as the first landmark in an exciting story.
In the month of December all Hemerlingue's clerks received double pay,
and in small households, you know, a thousand ambitious or generous
projects are based upon such windfalls,--presents to be given, a piece
of furniture to be replaced, a small sum tucked away in a drawer for
unforeseen emergencies.

The fact is that M. Joyeuse was not rich. His wife, a Mademoiselle de
Saint-Amand, being tormented with aspirations for worldly grandeur, had
established the little household on a ruinous footing, and in the three
years since her death, although _Grandmamma_ had managed affairs so
prudently, they had not been able as yet to save anything, the burden
of the past was so heavy. Suddenly the excellent man fancied that the
honorarium would be larger than usual that year on account of the
increased work necessitated by the Tunisian loan. That loan was a very
handsome thing for his employers, too handsome indeed, for M. Joyeuse
had taken the liberty to say at the office that on that occasion
"Hemerlingue and Son had shaved the Turk a little too close."

"Yes, the bonus will certainly be doubled," thought the visionary as he
walked along; and already he saw himself, a month hence, ascending the
staircase leading to Hemerlingue's private office, with his
fellow-clerks, for their New Year's call. The banker announced the good
news; then he detained M. Joyeuse for a private interview. And lo! that
employer, usually so cold, and encased in his yellow fat as in a bale
of raw silk, became affectionate, fatherly, communicative. He wished to
know how many daughters Joyeuse had.

"I have three--that is to say, four, Monsieur le Baron. I always get
confused about them. The oldest one is such a little woman."

How old were they?

"Aline is twenty, Monsieur le Baron. She's the oldest. Then we have
Elise who is eighteen and preparing for her examination, Henriette who
is fourteen, and Zaza or Yaia who is only twelve."

The pet name Yaia amused Monsieur le Baron immensely; he also inquired
as to the resources of the family.

"My salary, Monsieur le Baron, nothing but that. I had a little money
laid by, but my poor wife's sickness and the girls' education--"

"What you earn is not enough, my dear Joyeuse. I raise you to a
thousand francs a month."

"Oh! Monsieur le Baron, that is too much!"

But, although he had uttered this last phrase aloud, in the face of a
policeman