spent every hour of his life."

"Do not swear, madame."

"All our friends will tell you how parsimonious my husband was."

"Here, madame, towards yourself and your children, I have no doubt;
for seeing is believing: but elsewhere--"

He was interrupted by the arrival of the locksmith, who, in less
than five minutes, had picked all the locks of the old desk.

But in vain did the commissary search all the drawers. He found
only those useless papers which are made relics of by people who
have made order their religious faith,--uninteresting letters,
grocers' and butchers' bills running back twenty years.

"It is a waste of time to look for any thing here," he growled.

And in fact he was about to give up his perquisitions, when a bundle
thinner than the rest attracted his attention. He cut the thread
that bound it; and almost at once:

"I knew I was right," he said. And holding out a paper to Mme. Favoral:

"Read, madame, if you please."

It was a bill. She read thus:

"Sold to M. Favoral an India Cashmere, fr. 8,500.