The little man tried at first to impose upon the strangers; but when they proposed to pay cash, he consented to take off something from the price, and the bargain was concluded. In his delight, the proprietor invited the ladies to come in and rest, and even went so far as to offer them a glass of wine and water. But they had no desire to become better acquainted with the old miser; moreover, the ladies were hungry, and they had only time to go to the notary’s office before dinner.
The little old man did not insist upon their stopping at his house; he took off his nightcap, sent the concierge to fetch an old, shabby, felt hat, which he carried under his arm in order to preserve it longer; he put on a coat once nut-colored, but of which no one could possibly divine the color now, and did not forget the bill-headed cane, upon which he leaned the more heavily, because he thought that by using a support for part of his weight, he would save the soles of his shoes.
They went to the office of the local notary; he received the details of the bargain, and promised to have the deed ready in due form in twenty-four hours. Edouard agreed to return to the village on the following day with the purchase money, and Monsieur Renâré,—such was the proprietor’s name,—agreed to be punctual and to turn over the keys of the house. Everything being settled, they separated, each party well pleased with his bargain.
VI
A DINNER PARTY IN THE COUNTRY
“Now let us think about dinner,” said Edouard, as he and the ladies left the notary’s, “and let us try to find the best restaurant in the place.”
“We ought to have asked Monsieur Renâré that, my dear.”
“No indeed! I am sure that the old miser goes to the vilest wine-shop, in order to dine the cheaper. But I see yonder a very good-looking house—it is a wine-shop and restaurant,—the Epée Couronnée, ‘wedding and other parties.’—What do you say to that, mesdames?”
“Very good; let us go to the Epée Couronnée.”
They entered the country restaurant; the outer walls were adorned with hams, pies, turkeys, chickens, game, and bunches of asparagus; but as a rule the kitchen of a village restaurant never contains more than one fourth of what is painted on the front wall; and even so, the ovens are often cold.
When our Parisians entered the common room of the Epée Couronnée, the proprietor, who was also chief cook, was occupied in shaving, his little scullion was playing with a cup-and-ball, the mistress of the house was knitting, and the two girls who did the heavy work were washing and ironing.