acco.
But neither Rouget, nor his son, nor the cook, took the slightest care
of all these treasures. They spat upon a hearth of exquisite delicacy,
whose gilded mouldings were now green with verdigris. A handsome
chandelier, partly of semi-transparent porcelain, was peppered, like the
ceiling from which it hung, with black speckles, bearing witness to the
immunity enjoyed by the flies. The Descoings had draped the windows with
brocatelle curtains torn from the bed of some monastic prior. To the
left of the entrance-door, stood a chest or coffer, worth many thousand
francs, which the doctor now used for a sideboard.

"Here, Fanchette," cried Rouget to his cook, "bring two glasses; and
give us some of the old wine."

Fanchette, a big Berrichon countrywoman, who was considered a better
cook than even La Cognette, ran in to receive the order with a celerity
which said much for the doctor's despotism, and something also for her
own curiosity.

"What is an acre of vineyard worth in your parts?" asked the doctor,
pouring out a glass of wine for Brazier.

"Three hundred francs in silver."

"Well, then! leave your niece here as my servant; she shall have three
hundred francs in wages, and, as you are her guardian, you can take
them."

"Every year?" exclaimed Brazier, with his eyes as wide as saucers.

"I leave that to your conscience," said the doctor. "She is an orphan;
up to eighteen, she has no right to what she earns."

"Twelve to eighteen--that's six acres of vineyard!" said the uncle. "Ay,
she's a pretty one, gentle as a lamb, well made and active, and obedient
as a kitten. She were the light o' my poor brother's eyes--"

"I will pay a year in advance," observed the doctor.

"Bless me! say two years, and I'll leave her with you, for she'll be
better off with you than with us; my wife beats her, she can't abide
her. There's none but I to stand up for her, and the little saint of a
creature is as innocent as a new-born babe."

When he heard the last part of this speech, the doctor, struck by the
word "innocent," made a sign to the uncle and took him out into the
courtyard and from thence to the garden; leaving the Rabouilleuse at the
table with Fanchette and Jean-Jacques, who immediately questioned her,
and to whom she naively related her meeting with the doctor.

"There now, my little darling, good-by," said Uncle Brazier, coming
back and kissing Flore on the forehead; "you can well say I've made your
happine