this satchel I
can see only a few five percent bonds and some transfers--no actual
cash."

"And in the purse?"

"A mere trifle."

"But there is a money-changer's office here, is there not? They told me
I should be able to get any sort of paper security changed!"

"Quite so; to any amount you please. But you will lose on the
transaction what would frighten even a Jew."

"Rubbish! I am DETERMINED to retrieve my losses. Take me away, and call
those fools of bearers."

I wheeled the chair out of the throng, and, the bearers making their
appearance, we left the Casino.

"Hurry, hurry!" commanded the Grandmother. "Show me the nearest way to
the money-changer's. Is it far?"

"A couple of steps, Madame."

At the turning from the square into the Avenue we came face to face
with the whole of our party--the General, De Griers, Mlle. Blanche, and
her mother. Only Polina and Mr. Astley were absent.

"Well, well, well!" exclaimed the Grandmother. "But we have no time to
stop. What do you want? I can't talk to you here."

I dropped behind a little, and immediately was pounced upon by De
Griers.

"She has lost this morning's winnings," I whispered, "and also twelve
thousand gulden of her original money. At the present moment we are
going to get some bonds changed."

De Griers stamped his foot with vexation, and hastened to communicate
the tidings to the General. Meanwhile we continued to wheel the old
lady along.

"Stop her, stop her," whispered the General in consternation.

"You had better try and stop her yourself," I returned--also in a
whisper.

"My good mother," he said as he approached her, "--my good mother, pray
let, let--" (his voice was beginning to tremble and sink) "--let us
hire a carriage, and go for a drive. Near here there is an enchanting
view to be obtained. We-we-we were just coming to invite you to go and
see it."

"Begone with you and your views!" said the Grandmother angrily as she
waved him away.

"And there are trees there, and we could have tea under them,"
continued the General--now in utter despair.

"Nous boirons du lait, sur l'herbe fraiche," added De Griers with the
snarl almost of a wild beast.

"Du lait, de l'herbe fraiche"--the idyll, the ideal of the Parisian
bourgeois--his whole outlook upon "la nature et la verite"!

"Have done with you and your milk!" cried the old lady. "Go and stuff
YOURSELF as much as you like, but my stomach simply recoils from the
idea. What are