"I cannot thank you; no words are possible, my nephew," said the poor

mother, whose eyes filled with tears. "Night and morning in my prayers

I shall add one for you, the most earnest of all--for those who

travel. If I die, Eugenie will keep this treasure for you."

"They are worth nine hundred and eighty-nine francs, seventy-five

centimes," said Grandet, opening the door. "To save you the pain of

selling them, I will advance the money--in /livres/."

The word /livres/ on the littoral of the Loire signifies that crown