ing of reform," said
Leon.

"Yes, monsieur. Ah! if a dozen or fifteen artists, capitalists, or
dandies who set the tone would only have courage for twenty-four hours
France would gain a splendid commercial battle! To succeed in this
reform I would give my whole fortune! Yes, my sole ambition is to
regenerate the hat and disappear."

"The man is colossal," said Gazonal, as they left the shop; "but I
assure you that all your originals so far have a touch of the Southerner
about them."

"Let us go this way," said Bixiou pointing to the rue Saint-Marc.

"Do you want to show me something else?"

"Yes; you shall see the usuress of rats, marcheuses and great ladies,--a
woman who possesses more terrible secrets than there are gowns hanging
in her window," said Bixiou.

And he showed Gazonal one of those untidy shops which made an ugly stain
in the midst of the dazzling show-windows of modern retail commerce.
This shop had a front painted in 1820, which some bankrupt had doubtless
left in a dilapidated condition. The color had disappeared beneath a
double coating of dirt, the result of usage, and a thick layer of
dust; the window-panes were filthy, the door-knob turned of itself, as
door-knobs do in all places where people go out more quickly than they
enter.

"What do you say of _that_? First cousin to Death, isn't she?" said
Leon in Gazonal's ear, showing him, at the desk, a terrible individual.
"Well, she calls herself Madame Nourrisson."

"Madame, how much is this guipure?" asked the manufacturer, intending to
compete in liveliness with the two artists.

"To you, monsieur, who come from the country, it will be only three
hundred francs," she replied. Then, remarking in his manner a sort of
eagerness peculiar to Southerners, she added, in a grieved tone, "It
formerly belonged to that poor Princess de Lamballe."

"What! do you dare exhibit it so near the palace?" cried Bixiou.

"Monsieur, _they_ don't believe in it," she replied.

"Madame, we have not come to make purchases," said Bixiou, with a show
of frankness.

"So I see, monsieur," returned Madame Nourrisson.

"We have several things to sell," said the illustrious caricaturist.
"I live close by, rue de Richelieu, 112, sixth floor. If you will come
round there for a moment, you may perhaps make some good bargains."

Ten minutes later Madame Nourrisson did in fact present herself at
Bixiou's lodgings, where by that time he had taken Leon and Gazonal.
Mad