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 security whatever that somebody other than the owner should not get the benefit of it. She had heretofore kept all her money—when she had any—sewed up in her mattress, in a place where she could feel it, if she wished to; and the mattress was perfectly safe; whereas, she had no guaranty that the bank was.

So Fifi quietly but decisively made up her mind that she would get hold of her hundred thousand francs and put it in a safe place—that is to say, the mattress. It might not be difficult to manage. Madame Bourcet told her she must take a tin box with her, and kindly provided the box; but it was not impossible—Suppose, thought Fifi, she could quietly transfer the money to a large reticule she possessed, and put something, old shoes, for example, in the tin box she would deposit in the bank? She had plenty of old shoes in her mysterious trunk. Fifi was charmed with this notion.

On the morning of the great day she took the precaution to fill her reticule with old shoes, fasten it to her belt, and it was so well concealed by her flowing red cloak that nobody but herself knew she had a reticule. Madame Bourcet, Louis and herself were to go in the carriage of Madame Bour