his business and that Fromont Jeune is the master. Upon my word, one
would almost think--one would almost think--"

The cashier did not finish his sentence; but his silence was pregnant
with unspoken thoughts.

The old maid was appalled; but, like most women under such circumstances,
instead of seeking a remedy for the evil, she wandered off into a maze of
regrets, conjectures, and retrospective lamentations. What a misfortune
that they had not known it sooner when they had the Chebes for neighbors.
Madame Chebe was such an honorable woman. They might have put the matter
before her so that she would keep an eye on Sidonie and talk seriously to
her.

"Indeed, that's a good idea," Sigismond interrupted. "You must go to the
Rue du Mail and tell her parents. I thought at first of writing to little
Frantz. He always had a great deal of influence over his brother, and
he's the only person on earth who could say certain things to him. But
Frantz is so far away. And then it would be such a terrible thing to do.
I can't help pitying that unlucky Risler, though. No! the best way is to
tell Madame Chebe. Will you undertake to do it, sister?"

It was a dangerous commission. Mademoiselle Planus made some objections,
but she never had been able to resist her brother's wishes, and the
desire to be of service to their old friend Risler assisted materially in
persuading her.

Thanks to his son-in-law's kindness, M. Chebe had succeeded in gratifying
his latest whim. For three months past he had been living at his famous
warehouse on the Rue du Mail, and a great sensation was created in the
quarter by that shop without merchandise, the shutters of which were
taken down in the morning and put up again at night, as in wholesale
houses. Shelves had been placed all around the walls, there was a new
counter, a safe, a huge pair of scales. In a word, M. Chebe possessed all
the requisites of a business of some sort, but did not know as yet just
what business he would choose.

He pondered the subject all day as he walked to and fro across the shop,
encumbered with several large pieces of bedroom furniture which they had
been unable to get into the back room; he pondered it, too, as he stood
on his doorstep, with his pen behind his ear, and feasted his eyes
delightedly on the hurly-burly of Parisian commerce. The clerks who
passed with their packages of samples under their arms, the vans of the
express companies, the omnibuses, the porters,