elf 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.

"He is always so when he dines at the ministry," remarked Madame
Saillard; "happily, it is only twice a year, or he'd die of it. Saillard
was never made to be in the government--Well, now, I do hope, Saillard,"
she continued in a loud tone, "that you are not goi