d, in fact, put in
an appearance with two of his clients, the architect of his hospital and
an upholsterer, who took charge of the repairs, the indoor arrangements,
and the transportation of the furniture. Madame Minoret-Levrault
proposed the cook of the late notary as caretaker, and the woman was
accepted.

When the heirs heard that their uncle and great-uncle Minoret was really
coming to live in Nemours, they were seized (in spite of the political
events which were just then weighing so heavily on Brie and on the
Gatinais) with a devouring curiosity, which was not surprising. Was
he rich? Economical or spendthrift? Would he leave a fine fortune or
nothing? Was his property in annuities? In the end they found out
what follows, but only by taking infinite pains and employing much
subterraneous spying.

After the death of his wife, Ursula Mirouet, and between the years 1789
and 1813, the doctor (who had been appointed consulting physician to the
Emperor in 1805) must have made a good deal of money; but no one knew
how much. He lived simply, without other extravagancies than a carriage
by the year and a sumptuous apartment. He received no guests, and dined
out almost every day. His housekeeper, furious at not being allowed to
go with him to Nemours, told Zelie Levrault, the post master's wife,
that she knew the doctor had fourteen thousand francs a year on the
"grand-livre." Now, after twenty years' exercise of a profession which
his position as head of a hospital, physician to the Emperor, and member
of the Institute, rendered lucrative, these fourteen thousand francs a
year showed only one hundred and sixty thousand francs laid by. To have
saved only eight thousand francs a year the doctor must have had either
many vices or many virtues to gratify. But neither his housekeeper
nor Zelie nor any one else could discover the reason for such moderate
means. Minoret, who when he left it was much regretted in the quarter
of Paris where he had lived, was one of the most benevolent of men, and,
like Larrey, kept his kind deeds a profound secret.

The heirs watched the arrival of their uncle's fine furniture and large
library with complacency, and looked forward to his own coming, he being
now an officer of the Legion of honor, and lately appointed by the king
a chevalier of the order of Saint-Michel--perhaps on account of his
retirement, which left a vacancy for some favorite. But when the
architect and painter and upholstere