kind, presents to be made, a piece of furniture to be replaced, a little
sum of money to be saved in a drawer against the unforeseen.

In simple fact, M. Joyeuse was not rich. His wife, a Mlle. de
Saint-Armand, tormented with ideas of greatness and society, had set
this little clerk's household on a ruinous footing, and though since her
death three years had passed during which Bonne Maman had managed the
housekeeping with so much wisdom, they had not yet been able to save
anything, so heavy had proved the burden of the past. Suddenly it
occurred to the good fellow that this year the bounty would be larger
by reason of the increase of work which had been caused by the Tunisian
loan. The loan constituted a very fine stroke of business for the firm,
too fine even, for M. Joyeuse had permitted himself to remark in the
office that this time "Hemerlingue & Son had shaved the Turk a little
too close."

"Certainly, yes, the bounty will be doubled," reflected the visionary,
as he walked; and already he saw himself, a month thence, mounting with
his comrades, for the New Year's visit, the little staircase that led
to Hemerlingue's apartment. He announced the good news to them; then he
detained M. Joyeuse for a few words in private. And, behold, that master
habitually so cold in his manner, sheathed in his yellow fat as in
a bale of raw silk, became affectionate, paternal, communicative. He
desired to know how many daughters Joyeuse had.

"I have three; no, I should say, four, M. le Baron. I always confuse
them. The eldest is such a sensible girl."

Further he wished to know their ages.