when. Caravan opened his eyes again. His mind was
rather confused when he woke up, and he did not clearly remember what had
happened for a few minutes; when he did, he felt a weight at his heart,
and jumped out of bed, almost ready to cry again.

He hastened to the room overhead, where Rosalie was still sleeping in the
same position as the night before, not having awakened once. He sent her
to do her work, put fresh tapers in the place of those that had burnt
out, and then he looked at his mother, revolving in his brain those
apparently profound thoughts, those religious and philosophical
commonplaces which trouble people of mediocre intelligence in the
presence of death.

But, as his wife was calling him, he went downstairs. She had written out
a list of what had to be done during the morning, and he was horrified
when he saw the memorandum:

1. Report the death at the mayor's office. 2. See the doctor who had
attended her. 3. Order the coffin. 4. Give notice at the church.
5. Go to the undertaker. 6. Order the notices of her death at the
printer's. 7. Go to the lawyer. 8. Telegraph the news to all the family.

Besides all this, there were a number of small commissions; so he took
his hat and went out. As the news had spread abroad, Madame Caravan's
female friends and neighbors soon began to come in and begged to be
allowed to see the body. There had been a scene between husband and wife
at the hairdresser's on the ground floor about the matter, while a
customer was being shaved. The wife, who was knitting steadily, said:
"Well, there is one less, and as great a miser as one ever meets with. I
certainly did not care for her; but, nevertheless, I must go and have a
look at her."

The husband, while lathering his patient's chin, said: "That is another
queer fancy! Nobody but a woman would think of such a thing. It is not
enough for them to worry you during life, but they cannot even leave you
at peace when you are dead:" But his wife, without being in the least
disconcerted, replied: "The feeling is stronger than I am, and I must go.
It has been on me since the morning. If I were not to see her, I should
think about it all my life; but when I have had a good look at her, I
shall be satisfied."

The knight of the razor shrugged his shoulders and remarked in a low
voice to the gentleman whose cheek he was scraping: "I just ask you, what
sort of ideas do you think these confounded females have? I should not
amuse mys