“And you have to go to that tiresome Melun to-day, to be away from me two whole days?”
“Yes,” replied de Meneval. “How I wish you could go with me! I have often been sorry I gave up my quarters to accommodate Lefebvre, with his wife and four children to support on her dot and his captain’s pay. I didn’t mind living en garçon until I had a wife of my own.”
It was quite true that de Meneval, out of generosity, had given up the best part of his quarters to his brother officer, and had not the heart to ask for them again, especially as he was generally supposed to be in the enjoyment of a large income.
“Don’t say you are sorry, Victor. For my part, charming as it would be to stay at Melun with you, I am glad you can help the poor Lefebvres. We know what it is to want money, don’t we?”
“Indeed we do.”
“And our case is the harder that no one will believe we haven’t the use of our money.”
Léontine, who was delicate-minded, always called her money “our money,” and de Meneval deeply and affectionately appreciated this.
“And it will be duller than ever at that odious little cottage in the suburbs of Melun.”
“Oh, yes. Léontine, I am afraid it is I who have brought this on you.”
“No, no, no—it is I, or rather Papa Bouchard’s old-fashioned, stingy ideas. He has no notion of what a modern way of living costs.”