CHAPTER XVII
PERE GUEGOU'S ROSES
Had Yvonne needed encouragement in her career as a bread-winner her success of the morning had filled her with confidence. She had earned the right to live for this day at least, and looked forward to the morrow with joyous enthusiasm. Philidor, who still confessed to the possession of a few francs of their original capital, was for putting up at a small hotel or inn and paying for this accommodation out of principal. But Yvonne would not have it so. The sum they had earned for the ragoût had filled her with pride and cupidity, had developed a niggardly desire to hoard their sous against a rainy day. They had earned the right to lunch. They must also earn the right to dine and sleep!
Late in the afternoon they came to a small village where a crowd of idlers soon surrounded them. Philidor unpacked Clarissa and recited in a loud tone the now familiar inventory of their artistic achievements and Yvonne, smiling, donned her orchestra, tuned her mandolin and played. The audience jested and paid her pretty compliments, and joined with a good will in the familiar choruses. And for his part, Philidor made a lightning sketch of an ancien who stood by, leaning upon his stick, which brought him several other commissions at ten sous the portrait. "Reduced rates!" he cried. "Bien entendu!" For to-morrow at Verneuil would the people not pay him two francs fifty? This final argument was convincing to their frugal souls, and he sat upon a chair until sunset making Vallécy immortal. Philidor was too busy even to pass the hat for the musical part of the performances, so Yvonne did it herself, returning with two francs, all in coppers. When this was added to the earnings of Philidor, they found that in just two hours the princely sum of six francs had been earned.
"To-night," whispered Philidor, "you shall sleep in a chamber once occupied by the Grand Monarch at the very least. We are tasting success, Yvonne."
"Yes—and it's good—but I've learned a healthy scorn of beds. You, of course shall rest where you please, but as for me—I've an ungovernable desire to sleep in a hay-mow."
"But hay-mows are not for those who can earn six francs in two hours. We are rich," he cried, "and who knows what to-morrow may bring besides!"
They compromised. The ancien to whom Markham applied in this difficulty offered them bed and board for the small sum of two francs each, and accordingly they made way to his house. The ancien was a person of some substance in the community as they soon discovered, for his house, the last one at the end of the street, was a two storied affair and boasted of a wall at the side which inclosed a vegetable patch and a small flower garden at the back. Mère Guégou, a woman younger than her lord, looked at them askance until her good man exhibited the portrait by Monsieur Philidor, when she burst into smiles and hospitality.
Oui, bien sûr, there were rooms. This was no auberge, that was understood, but the house was very large for two old people. Yes, they rented the spare rooms by the month. Just now they were fortunately empty. Did Monsieur desire two rooms or one?
"Two," said Philidor promptly. "We will pay of course."