Short Stories, vol 11 | Page 5

of some unpleasant recollection.

But he had scarcely got home that evening when his wife took the
umbrella from him, opened it, and nearly had a fit when she saw what
had befallen it, for the disaster was irreparable. It was covered with
small holes, which evidently proceeded from burns, just as if some one
had emptied the ashes from a lighted pipe on to it. It was done for
utterly, irreparably.
She looked at it without a word, in too great a passion to be able to say
anything. He, also, when he saw the damage, remained almost
dumfounded, in a state of frightened consternation.
They looked at each other, then he looked at the floor; and the next
moment she threw the useless article at his head, screaming out in a
transport of the most violent rage, for she had recovered her voice by
that time:
"Oh! you brute! you brute! You did it on purpose, but I will pay you
out for it. You shall not have another."
And then the scene began again, and after the storm had raged for an
hour, he at last was able to explain himself. He declared that he could
not understand it at all, and that it could only proceed from malice or
from vengeance.
A ring at the bell saved him; it was a friend whom they were expecting
to dinner.
Mme. Oreille submitted the case to him. As for buying a new umbrella,
that was out of the question; her husband should not have another. The
friend very sensibly said that in that case his clothes would be spoiled,
and they were certainly worth more than the umbrella. But the little
woman, who was still in a rage, replied:
"Very well, then, when it rains he may have the kitchen umbrella, for I
will not give him a new silk one."
Oreille utterly rebelled at such an idea.
"All right," he said; "then I shall resign my post. I am not going to the
office with the kitchen umbrella."
The friend interposed.
"Have this one re-covered; it will not cost much."
But Mme. Oreille, being in the temper that she was, said:
"It will cost at least eight francs to re-cover it. Eight and eighteen are
twenty-six. Just fancy, twenty-six francs for an umbrella! It is utter
madness!"

The friend, who was only a poor man of the middle classes, had an
inspiration:
"Make your fire assurance pay for it. The companies pay for all articles
that are burned, as long as the damage has been done in your own
house."
On hearing this advice the little woman calmed down immediately, and
then, after a moment's reflection, she said to her husband:
"To-morrow, before going to your office, you will go to the Maternelle
Assurance Company, show them the state your umbrella is in, and
make them pay for the damage."
M. Oreille fairly jumped, he was so startled at the proposal.
"I would not do it for my life! It is eighteen francs lost, that is all. It
will not ruin us."
The next morning he took a walking-stick when he went out, and,
luckily, it was a fine day.
Left at home alone, Mme. Oreille could not get over the loss of her
eighteen francs by any means. She had put the umbrella on the dining-
room table, and she looked at it without being able to come to any
determination.
Every moment she thought of the assurance company, but she did not
dare to encounter the quizzical looks of the gentlemen who might
receive her, for she was very timid before people, and blushed at a mere
nothing, and was embarrassed when she had to speak to strangers.
But the regret at the loss of the eighteen francs pained her as if she had
been wounded. She tried not to think of it any more, and yet every
moment the recollection of the loss struck her painfully. What was she
to do, however? Time went on, and she could not decide; but suddenly,
like all cowards, on making a resolve, she became determined.
"I will go, and we will see what will happen."
But first of all she was obliged to prepare the umbrella so that the
disaster might be complete, and the reason of it quite evident. She took
a match from the mantelpiece, and between the ribs she burned a hole
as big as the palm of her hand; then she delicately rolled it up, fastened
it with the elastic band, put on her bonnet and shawl, and went quickly
toward the Rue de Rivoli, where the assurance office was.
But the nearer she got, the slower she walked. What was she going to
say, and what reply would she get?

She looked at the numbers