The next day was spent in arranging his new quarters, Mlle. Fouchette issuing general direction, to the constant discomfiture of the worthy Benoit, thus deprived of unknown perquisites.
When this work of installation had been completed, Jean found himself with comfortable quarters in the Rue St. Jacques at a saving of nearly two thousand four hundred francs.
"There!" exclaimed Mlle. Fouchette.
"At last!" said Jean.
"Now," Mlle. Fouchette began, with enthusiasm, "I'm going to get dinner!"
"Oh, not to-day! Allons donc! We must celebrate by dinner at the restaurant."
"But it's a sinful waste of money, when one has such a sweet range,—and you must economize, monsieur."
"All right," he replied,—"to-morrow."
It is a popular plan of economy, that which begins to-morrow.
"Yes, to-morrow; to-morrow you shall have your way. To-day I have mine. Why, what a parsimonious little wretch you are! And have you not been devoting all of your time and working hard for me these five days?"