She started a little, but bethought herself instantly that he had heard
her name in Père Jerome's parlor. The good father might even have said a
few words about her after her first departure; he had such an
overflowing heart. "Madame Carraze," said Monsieur Vignevielle, "doze
kine of note wad you '_an_' me juz now is bein' contrefit. You muz tek
kyah from doze kine of note. You see"--He drew from his cash-drawer a
note resembling the one he had just changed for her, and proceeded to
point out certain tests of genuineness. The counterfeit, he said, was so
and so.

"Bud," she exclaimed, with much dismay, "dad was de manner of my bill!
Id muz be--led me see dad bill wad I give you,--if you pliz, Miché."

Monsieur Vigneville turned to engage in conversation with an employé and
a new visitor, and gave no sign of hearing Madame Delphine's voice. She
asked a second time, with like result, lingered timidly, and as he
turned to give his attention to a third visitor, reiterated:

"Miché Vignevielle, I wizh you pliz led"--

"Madame Carraze," he said, turning so suddenly as to make the frightened
little woman start, but extending his palm with a show of frankness, and
assuming a look of benignant patience, "'ow I kin fine doze note now,
mongs' all de rez? Iv you p'iz nod to mague me doze troub'."

The dimmest shadow of a smile seemed only to give his words a more
kindly authoritative import, and as he turned away again with a manner
suggestive of finality, Madame Delphine found no choice but to depart.
But she went away loving the ground beneath the feet of Monsieur U.L.