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Sometimes, of an evening, when they were enjoying a tete-a-tote by the fireside, she would place on the tea table the morocco leather box containing the "trash," as Monsieur Lantin called it.
She lavished the most delicate attentions on her husband, coaxed and fondled him; and so great was her charm that six years after their marriage, Monsieur Lantin discovered that he loved his wife even more than during the first days of their honeymoon. He found fault with only two of her tastes: Her love for the theatre, and her taste for imitation jewelry.
The man took the necklace, examined it, called his clerk and made some remarks in an undertone; then he put the ornament back on the counter, and looked at it from a distance to judge of the effect. M. Lantin was annoyed by all this detail and was on the point of saying: "Oh!
The other replied, drily: "You can try elsewhere and see if any one will offer you more. I consider it worth fifteen thousand at the most. Come back; here, if you cannot do better." Monsieur Lantin, beside himself with astonishment, took up the necklace and left the store. He wished time for reflection. Once outside, he felt inclined to laugh, and said to himself: "The fool! Oh, the fool!
"Lantin I am in the employ of the Minister of the Interior. I live at number sixteen Rue des Martyrs." The merchant looked through his books, found the entry, and said: "That necklace was sent to Madame Lantin's address, sixteen Rue des Martyrs, July 20, 1876." The two men looked into each other's eyes the widower speechless with astonishment; the jeweler scenting a thief.
I will give you a receipt." "Certainly," answered M. Lantin, hastily. Then, putting the ticket in his pocket, he left the store. He wandered aimlessly through the streets, his mind in a state of dreadful confusion. He tried to reason, to understand. His wife could not afford to purchase such a costly ornament. Certainly not. But, then, it must have been a present! a present! a present from whom?
Had I only taken him at his word! That jeweler cannot distinguish real diamonds from paste." A few minutes after, he entered another store in the Rue de la Paix. As soon as the proprietor glanced at the necklace, he cried out: "Ah, parbleu! I know it well; it was bought here." M. Lantin was disturbed, and asked: "How much is it worth?" "Well, I sold it for twenty thousand francs.
After a time, Monsieur Lantin begged his wife to request some lady of her acquaintance to accompany her, and to bring her home after the theatre. She opposed this arrangement, at first; but, after much persuasion, finally consented, to the infinite delight of her husband. Now, with her love for the theatre, came also the desire for ornaments.
As he was about to leave the store, he turned toward the merchant, who still wore the same knowing smile, and lowering his eyes, said: "I have I have other gems, which came from the same source. Will you buy them, also?" The merchant bowed: "Certainly, sir." Monsieur Lantin said gravely: "I will bring them to you." An hour later, he returned with the gems.
I am willing to take it back for eighteen thousand when you inform me, according to our legal formality, how it comes to be in your possession." This time M. Lantin was dumfounded. He replied: "But but examine it well. Until this moment I was under the impression that it was paste." Said the jeweler: "What is your name, sir?" "Lantin I am in the employ of the Minister of the Interior.
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