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 Louis and Madame Bourcet were half distracted. But Fifi had such a lot of money—and was the granddaughter of the Holy Father's cousin!

Next morning, Madame Bourcet, as usual, made ready to go to the lecture, at twelve o'clock. Fifi had never once proposed going out alone, and was at that moment engaged in needlework in her own room. Madame Bourcet, therefore, started off, without any misgivings, except the general gloom produced by the thought of either having Fifi in the family, or not having her.

Scarcely had Madame Bourcet's respectable figure disappeared around the corner, before another figure equally respectable, and apparently a good deal older, emerged upon the street. It was Fifi, dressed in Angéline's clothes, and with a green barége veil falling over her face. She knew how to limp as if she were seventy-five, instead of nineteen, and cleverly concealed her mouthful of beautiful white teeth. On her arm was a little covered basket which might have held eggs, but which really held nearly ninety thousand francs in thousand-franc notes.

Fifi knew the way to the banking-house of La