n business, that is very different, especially in perfumery, where
everything fits like a glove," said the old fellow with a sour smile;
"but when you come to letting houses in Paris, nothing is unimportant.
Why, I have a tenant in the Rue Montorgeuil who--"

"Monsieur," said Birotteau, "I am sorry to detain you from your
breakfast: here are the deeds, correct them. I agree to all that you
propose, we will sign them to-morrow; but to-day let us come to an
agreement by word of mouth, for my architect wants to take possession of
the premises in the morning."

"Monsieur," resumed Molineux with a glance at the umbrella-merchant,
"part of a quarter has expired; Monsieur Cayron would not wish to pay
it; we will add it to the rest, so that your lease may run from January
to January. It will be more in order."

"Very good," said Birotteau.

"And the five per cent for the porter--"

"But," said Birotteau, "if you deprive me of the right of entrance, that
is not fair."

"Oh, you are a tenant," said little Molineux, peremptorily, up in arms
for the principle. "You must pay the tax on doors and windows and your
share in all the other charges. If everything is clearly understood
there will be no difficulty. You must be doing well, monsieur; your
affairs are prospering?"

"Yes," said Birotteau. "But my motive is, I may say, something
different. I assemble my friends as much to celebrate the emancipation
of our territory as to commemorate my promotion to the order of the
Legion of honor--"

"Ah! ah!" said Molineux, "a recompense well-deserved!"

"Yes," said Birotteau, "possibly I showed myself worthy of that signal
and royal favor by my services on the Bench of commerce, and by fighting
for the Bourbons upon the steps of Saint-Roch on the 13th Vendemiaire.
These claims--"

"Are equal to those of our brave soldiers of the old army. The ribbon is
red, for it is dyed with their blood."

At these words, taken from the "Constitutionnel," Birotteau could
not keep from inviting little Molineux to the ball, who thanked him
profusely and felt like forgiving the disdainful look. The old man
conducted his new tenant as far as the landing, and overwhelmed him with
politeness. When Birotteau reached the middle of the Cour Batave he gave
Cayron a merry look.

"I did not think there could exist such--weak beings!" he said, with
difficulty keeping back the word _fools_.

"Ah, monsieur," said Cayron, "it is not everybody that has your