“I am going to marry Mlle. Eve Chardon.”

“Who may she be?  What kind of victual does she eat?”

“She is the daughter of the late M. Chardon, the druggist in L’Houmeau.”

“You are going to marry a girl out of L’Houmeau! you! a burgess of Angouleme, and printer to His Majesty!  This is what comes of book-learning!  Send a boy to school, forsooth!  Oh! well, then she is very rich, is she, my boy?” and the old vinegrower came up closer with a cajoling manner; “if you are marrying a girl out of L’Houmeau, it must be because she has lots of cash, eh?  Good! you will pay me my rent now.  There are two years and one-quarter owing, you know, my boy; that is two thousand seven hundred francs altogether; the money will come just in the nick of time to pay the cooper.  If it was anybody else, I should have a right to ask for interest; for, after all, business is business, but I will let you off the interest.  Well, how much has she?”

“Just as much as my mother had.”

The old vinegrower very nearly said, “Then she has only ten thousand francs!” but he recollected just in time that he had declined to give an account of her fortune to her son, and exclaimed, “She has nothing!”

“My mother’s fortune was her beauty and intelligence,” said David.

“You just go into the market and see what you can get for it!  Bless my buttons! what bad luck parents have with their children.  David, when I married, I had a paper cap on my head for my whole fortune, and a pair of arms; I was a poor pressman; but with the fine printing-house that I gave you, with your industry, and your education, you might marry a burgess’ daughter, a woman with thirty or forty thousand francs.  Give up your fancy, and I will find you a wife myself.  There is some one about three miles away, a miller’s widow, thirty-two years old, with a hundred thousand francs in land.  There is your chance!  You can add her property to Marsac, for they touch.  Ah! what a fine property we should have, and how I would look after it!  They say she is going to marry her foreman Courtois, but you are the better man of the two.  I would look after the mill, and she should live like a lady up in Angouleme.”

“I am engaged, father.”

“David, you know nothing of business; you will ruin yourself, I see.  Yes, if you marry this girl out of L’Houmeau, I shall square accounts and summons you for the rent, for I see that no good will come of this.  Oh! my presses, my poor presses! it took some money to grease you and keep you going.  Nothing but a good year can comfort me after this.”

“It seems to me, father, that until now I have given you very little trouble——­”

“And paid mighty little rent,” put in his parent.

“I came to ask you something else besides.  Will you build a second floor to your house, and some rooms above the shed?”