"You can, monsieur; you needn't have any fear."
"In that case, I'll go up. Good-day, monsieur le concierge."
The little man arrived at Chamoureau's door on the second floor.
"Monsieur went out early," said the charwoman, "but he'll certainly be back soon; if you'd like to wait, please take a seat."
"I'll wait as long as I've come; I'd rather wait than go back."
The countryman sat down in a sort of reception room lined with shelves which were filled with boxes, all of which gave the room a sort of resemblance to a solicitor's office; only the clerks were lacking. But the sight of boxes and of docketed files of papers always produces a great effect on clients of the type of the little thickset man. He looked around, evidently impressed, and said to himself:
"Yes, yes! this must be a famous business agent; there's lots of papers in them boxes!"
The countryman had been awaiting Chamoureau's return about fifteen minutes, when another person arrived. This was a man of middle age, with a bald head, long face and bumptious manner, who at once reminded one of the Joseph Prudhomme so well delineated by Henri Monnier.
This gentleman, who was dressed all in black, with a white cravat, which did not prevent his having a decidedly dirty look, entered the room with his head in the air, saying:
"I wish to speak at once with Monsieur Chamoureau, business agent; announce me, servant; I am Aimé-Désiré-Jules Beaubichon, professor of bookkeeping; however, your master knows me; I have seen him twice—in this domicile,—concerning the delicate affair, the purport of which I have succinctly laid before him. It relates to the subject of marriage; he has told me of a young woman whose virtue and morals he will answer for; and I am most particular touching those qualifications, provided that a suitable dowry be added to them, the face and form being in my eyes mere superfluities of little importance to a housewife in watching her soup-kettle!—I am disposed to take upon myself the bonds of matrimony once more if all the conditions are in accord with my social position, which, I venture to say, is as honorable as it is lucrative; fifteen hundred francs a year, without counting gifts from pupils—when they make any!"