neration, they
produced a fortune of L2000 a year to Dr. Veron in four years, and, but
for the outbreak of the cholera in '32, when "Robert le Diable" was in
the flush of its success, would have produced another L1000 per annum.
At that time Dr. Veron had already been able to put aside L24,000, and
he might have easily closed his theatre during those terrible months;
but, like Moliere, he asked himself what would become of all those who
were dependent upon him, and had not put aside anything; so he made his
savings into ten parcels, intending to hold out as many months without
asking help of any one. Five of the parcels went. At the beginning of
the sixth month the cholera abated; by the end it had almost
disappeared.

Those who would infer from this that Dr. Veron was indifferent to money,
would make a great mistake. But he would not allow his love of it to get
the upper hand, to come between him and his conscience, to make him
commit either a dishonest or a foolish act. By a foolish act he meant
headlong speculation. When the shares of the Northern Railway were
allotted, Dr. Veron owned the _Constitutionnel_; 150 shares were
allotted to him, which at that moment represented a clear profit of
60,000 francs, they being 400 francs above par. Dr. Veron made up his
mind to realize there and then. But it was already late; the Bourse was
closed, the stockbrokers had finished business for the day. He, however,
met one on the Boulevards, who gave him a cheque for 55,000 francs on
the Bank of France, which could only be cashed next day. The shares were
left meanwhile in Dr. Veron's possession. Three minutes after the
bargain was concluded Dr. Veron went back to his office. "I must have
ready money for this, or decline the transaction," he said. The
stockbroker, by applying to two of his colleagues, managed to scrape
together 50,000 francs. Dr. Veron gave him a receipt in full, returned
home, singing as he went the French version of "A bird in the hand,"
etc.

Veron was exceedingly superstitious, and had fads. He could never be
induced to take a railway journey. It was generally known in France at
that time that, in the early days of locomotion by steam, Queen Victoria
had held a similar objection. Veron, when twitted with his objection,
invariably replied, "I have yet to learn that the Queen of England is
less enlightened than any of you, and she will not enter a railway
carriage." But one day the report spread that the queen