"

"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