“Sign these,” he said, “and keep it all!”
She cried out, scandalised.
“But if I give you the surplus,” replied Monsieur Lheureux impudently, “is that not helping you?”
And taking a pen he wrote at the bottom of the account, “Received of Madame Bovary four thousand francs.”
“Now who can trouble you, since in six months you’ll draw the arrears for your cottage, and I don’t make the last bill due till after you’ve been paid?”
Emma grew rather confused in her calculations, and her ears tingled as if gold pieces, bursting from their bags, rang all round her on the floor. At last Lheureux explained that he had a very good friend, Vincart, a broker at Rouen, who would discount these four bills. Then he himself would hand over to madame the remainder after the actual debt was paid.
But instead of two thousand francs he brought only eighteen hundred, for the friend Vincart (which was only fair) had deducted two hundred francs for commission and discount. Then he carelessly asked for a receipt.
“You understand—in business—sometimes. And with the date, if you please, with the date.”
A horizon of realisable whims opened out before Emma. She was prudent enough to lay by a thousand crowns, with which the first three bills were paid when they fell due; but the fourth, by chance, came to the house on a Thursday, and Charles, quite upset, patiently awaited his wife’s return for an explanation.
If she had not told him about this bill, it was only to spare him such domestic worries; she sat on his knees, caressed him, cooed to him, gave him a long enumeration of all the indispensable things that had been got on credit.