And the young ladies looked at each other with a surprised air. At six o'clock the stock-taking was finished. The sun was still shining--a blonde summer sun, of which the golden reflection streamed through the glazed roofs of the halls. In the heavy air of the streets, tired families were already returning from the suburbs, loaded with bouquets, dragging their children along. One by one, the departments had become silent. Nothing was now heard in the depths of the galleries but the lingering calls of a few men clearing a last shelf. Then even these voices ceased, and there remained of the bustle of the day nothing but a shivering, above the formidable piles of goods. The shelves, cupboards, boxes, and band-boxes, were now empty: not a yard of stuff, not an object of any sort had remained in its place. The vast establishment presented nothing but the carcase of its usual appearance, the woodwork was absolutely bare, as on the day of entering into possession. This nakedness was the visible proof of the complete and exact taking of the stock. And on the ground was sixteen million francs' worth of goods, a rising sea, which had finished by submerging the tables and counters. The shopmen, drowned up to the shoulders, had commenced to put each article back into its place. They expected to finish about ten o'clock. When Madame Aurélie, who went to the first dinner, returned to the dining-room, she announced the amount of business done during the year, which the totals of the various departments had just given. The figure was eighty million francs, ten millions more than the preceding year. The only real decrease was on the fancy silks. “If Monsieur Mouret is not satisfied, I should like to know what more he wants,” added the first-hand. “See! he's over there, at the top of the grand staircase, looking furious.” The young ladies went to look at him. He was standing alone, with a sombre countenance, above the millions scattered at his feet. “Madame,” said Denise, at this moment, “would you kindly let me go away now? I can't do any more good on account of my foot, and as I am to dine at my uncle's with my brothers----”