nd very legible hand. She signed to them not to disturb
her, and the two men sat down. Florent looked round the room, and
notably at the two portraits, the bed and the timepiece, with an air of
surprise.

"There!" at last exclaimed Lisa, after having carefully verified a whole
page of calculations. "Listen to me now; we have an account to render to
you, my dear Florent."

It was the first time that she had so addressed him. However, taking up
the page of figures, she continued: "Your Uncle Gradelle died without
leaving a will. Consequently you and your brother are his sole heirs. We
now have to hand your share over to you."

"But I do not ask you for anything!" exclaimed Florent, "I don't wish
for anything!"

Quenu had apparently been in ignorance of his wife's intentions. He
turned rather pale and looked at her with an expression of displeasure.
Of course, he certainly loved his brother dearly; but there was no
occasion to hurl his uncle's money at him in this way. There would have
been plenty of time to go into the matter later on.

"I know very well, my dear Florent," continued Lisa, "that you did not
come back with the intention of claiming from us what belongs to you;
but business is business, you know, and we had better get things settled
at once. Your uncle's savings amounted to eighty-five thousand francs. I
have therefore put down forty-two thousand five hundred to your credit.
See!"

She showed him the figures on the sheet of paper.

"It is unfortunately not so easy to value the shop, plant,
stock-in-trade, and goodwill. I have only been able to put down
approximate amounts, but I don't think I have underestimated anything.
Well, the total valuation which I have made comes to fifteen thousand
three hundred and ten francs; your half of which is seven thousand six
hundred and fifty-five francs, so that your share amounts, in all, to
fifty thousand one hundred and fifty-five francs. Please verify it for
yourself, will you?"

She had called out the figures in a clear, distinct voice, and she now
handed the paper to Florent, who was obliged to take it.

"But the old man's business was certainly never worth fifteen thousand
francs!" cried Quenu. "Why, I wouldn't have given ten thousand for it!"

He had ended by getting quite angry with his wife. Really, it was absurd
to carry honesty to such a point as that! Had Florent said one word
about the business? No, indeed, he had declared that he didn't wish for