“A fact that goes without saying,” confirmed the pleasant little man. “If we did not put by, where would my wife be when I am no longer able to work?”
“Provisions being so cheap—— What did you say, Nancy?” asked Madame Carimon, interrupting herself.
“I was going to say that I could live upon oysters, and should like to,” replied Nancy, shaking back her flaxen curls with a laugh. “Half-a-dozen of those great big oysters would make me a lovely dinner any day—and the cost would be only three halfpence.”
“And only fivepence the cost of that beautiful fish,” put in her sister. “In Sainteville our income would amply suffice.”
“It seems to me that it would, mesdemoiselles,” observed Monsieur Carimon. “Three thousand five hundred francs yearly! We French should think it a sufficient sum. Doubtless much would depend upon the way in which you laid it out.”
“What should we have to pay for lodgings, Mary?” inquired Lavinia. “Just a nice sitting-room and two small bedrooms; or a large room with two beds in it; and to be waited on?”
“Oh, you won’t find that at Sainteville,” was the unexpected answer. “Nobody lets lodgings English fashion: it’s not the custom over here. You can find a furnished apartment, but the people will not wait upon you. There is always a little kitchen let with the rooms, and you must have your own servant.”
It was the first check the ladies had received. They sat thinking. “Dear me!” exclaimed Nancy. “No lodgings!”
“Would the apartments you speak of be very dear?” asked Lavinia.