I gave him the twenty Louis, and placed the watch in my jewel-casket. At table the niece sat opposite to me, but I took care not to look at her, and she, like a modest girl, did not say a score of words all through the meal. The meal was an excellent one, consisting of soup, boiled beef, an entree, and a roast. The mistress of the house told me that the roast was in my honour, “for,” she said, “we are not rich people, and we only allow ourselves this luxury on a Sunday.” I admired her delicacy, and the evident sincerity with which she spoke. I begged my entertainers to help me with my wine, and they accepted the offer, saying they only wished they were rich enough to be able to drink half a bottle a day.
“I thought trade was good with you.”
“The stuff is not ours, and we have debts; besides, the expenses are very great. We have sold very little up to now.”
“Do you only sell hats?”
“No, we have silk handkerchiefs, Paris stockings, and lace ruffs, but they say everything is too dear.”
“I will buy some things for you, and will send all my friends here. Leave it to me; I will see what I can do for you.”
“Mercy, fetch down one or two packets of those handkerchiefs and some stockings, large size, for the gentleman has a big leg.”
Mercy, as the niece was called, obeyed. I pronounced the handkerchiefs superb and the stockings excellent. I bought a dozen, and I promised them that they should sell out their whole stock. They overwhelmed me with thanks, and promised to put themselves entirely in my hands.
After coffee, which, like the roast, was in my honour, the aunt told her niece to take care not to awake me in the morning when she got up. She said she would not fail, but I begged her not to take too much trouble over me, as I was a very heavy sleeper.
In the afternoon I went to an armourer’s to buy a brace of pistols, and asked the man if he knew the tradesman with whom I was staying.