Now, one morning when our _Imaginaire_ had left his house at the usual hour and under the usual circumstances, he started upon one of his little private romances as he turned out of Rue Saint-Ferdinand. The end of the year was close at hand, and, perhaps it was the sight of a board shanty under construction in the neighboring woodyard that made him think of "New Year's gifts." And thereupon the word _bonus_ planted itself in his mind, as the first landmark in an exciting story. In the month of December all Hemerlingue's clerks received double pay, and in small households, you know, a thousand ambitious or generous projects are based upon such windfalls,--presents to be given, a piece of furniture to be replaced, a small sum tucked away in a drawer for unforeseen emergencies. The fact is that M. Joyeuse was not rich. His wife, a Mademoiselle de Saint-Amand, being tormented with aspirations for worldly grandeur, had established the little household on a ruinous footing, and in the three years since her death, although _Grandmamma_ had managed affairs so prudently, they had not been able as yet to save anything, the burden of the past was so heavy. Suddenly the excellent man fancied that the honorarium would be larger than usual that year on account of the increased work necessitated by the Tunisian loan. That loan was a very handsome thing for his employers, too handsome indeed, for M. Joyeuse had taken the liberty to say at the office that on that occasion "Hemerlingue and Son had shaved the Turk a little too close." "Yes, the bonus will certainly be doubled," thought the visionary as he walked along; and already he saw himself, a month hence, ascending the staircase leading to Hemerlingue's private office, with his fellow-clerks, for their New Year's call. The banker announced the good news; then he detained M. Joyeuse for a private interview. And lo! that employer, usually so cold, and encased in his yellow fat as in a bale of raw silk, became affectionate, fatherly, communicative. He wished to know how many daughters Joyeuse had. "I have three--that is to say, four, Monsieur le Baron. I always get confused about them. The oldest one is such a little woman." How old were they? "Aline is twenty, Monsieur le Baron. She's the oldest. Then we have Elise who is eighteen and preparing for her examination, Henriette who is fourteen, and Zaza or Yaia who is only twelve." The pet name Yaia amused Monsieur le Baron immensely; he also inquired as to the resources of the family. "My salary, Monsieur le Baron, nothing but that. I had a little money laid by, but my poor wife's sickness and the girls' education--" "What you earn is not enough, my dear Joyeuse. I raise you to a thousand francs a month." "Oh! Monsieur le Baron, that is too much!"