Thursday morning. Nancy Preen awoke with a sick headache, and could not
get up. But in the afternoon, when she was better, they went to Mary
Carimon's, and all three set out to look for an apartment--not meeting
with great success.
All they saw were too large, and priced accordingly. There was one,
indeed, in the Rue Lamartine, which suited as to size, but the rooms
were inconvenient and stuffy; and there was another small one on the
Grande Place, dainty and desirable, but the rent was very high. Madame
Carimon at once offered the landlord half-price, French custom: she
dealt at his shop for her groceries. No, no, he answered; his apartment
was the nicest in the town for its size, as mesdames saw, and it was in
the best situation--and not a single sou would the worthy grocer abate.
They were growing tired, then; and five o'clock, the universal hour at
Sainteville for dinner, was approaching.
"Come round to me after dinner, and we will talk it over," said Mary
Carimon, when they parted. "I will give you a cup of tea."
They dined at the table d'hôte, which both of them thought charming, and
then proceeded to the Rue Pomme Cuite. Monsieur Carimon was on the point
of going out, to spend an hour at the Café Pillaud, but he put down his
hat to wait awhile, out of respect to the ladies. They told him about
not having found an apartment to suit them.
"Of course we have not searched all parts of the town, only the most
likely ones," said Madame Carimon. "There are large apartments to be
had, but no small ones. We can search again to-morrow."
"I suppose there's not a little house to be had cheap, if we cannot find
an apartment?" cried Miss Nancy, who was in love with Sainteville, and
had set her heart upon remaining there.
"Tiens," quickly spoke Monsieur Carimon in French to his wife, "there's
the Petite Maison Rouge belonging to Madame Veuve Sauvage, in the Place
Ronde. It is still to let: I saw the affiche in the shop window to-day.
What do you think of it, Marie?"
Madame Carimon did not seem to know quite what to think. She looked at
her husband, then at the eager faces of her two friends; but she did not
speak.
About half-way down the Rue Tessin, a busy street leading to the port,
was a wide opening, giving on to the Place Ronde. The Place Ronde agreed
with its name, for it was somewhat in form of a horseshoe. Some fifteen
or sixteen substantial houses were built round it, each having a shop
for its basement; and trees, green and feathery, were scattered about,
affording a slight though pleasant shelter from the hot sun in summer
weather.
The middle house at the bottom of the Place Ronde, exactly facing the
opening from the Rue Tessin, was a very conspicuous house indeed,
inasmuch as it was painted red, whilst the other houses were white. All
of them had green persienne shutters to the upper windows. The shop, a
large one, belonging to this red house was that of the late Monsieur
Jean Sauvage, "Marchand de Vin en gros et en détail," as the
announcement over his door used to run in the later years of his life.
But when Jean Sauvage commenced business, in that same shop, it was only
as a retail vendor. Casting about in his mind one day for some means by
which his shop might be distinguished from other wine-shops and attract
customers, he hit upon the plan of painting the house red. No sooner
thought of than done. A painter was called, who converted the white
walls into a fiery vermilion, and stretched a board across the upper
part, between the windows of the first and second floors, on which
appeared in large letters "A la Maison Rouge."
Whether this sort of advertisement drew the public, or whether it might
have been the sterling respectability and devotion to business of
Monsieur Sauvage, he got on most successfully. The Marchand en détail
became also Marchand en gros, and in course of time he added liqueurs to
his wines. No citizen of Sainteville was more highly esteemed than he,
both as a man and a tradesman. Since his death the business had been
carried on by his widow, aided by the two sons, Gustave and Emile.
Latterly Madame Veuve Sauvage had given up all work to them; she was now
in years, and had well earned her rest. They lived in the rooms over the
shop, which were large and handsome. In former days, when the energies
of herself and her husband were chiefly devoted to acquiring and saving
money, they had let these upper rooms for a good sum yearly. Old Madame
Sauvage might be seen any day now sitting at a front-window, looking out
upon the world between her embroidered white curtains.
The door of this prosperous shop was between the two windows. The one
window displayed a few bottles of wine, most of them in straw cases;
in the other window were clear flacons of liqueurs: chartreuse, green
and yellow; curaçoa, warm and ruby; eau de vie de Danzick, with its
fluttering gold leaf; and many other sorts.
However, it is not with the goods of Madame Veuve Sauvage that we
have to do, but with her premises. Standing in front of the shop, as
if coveting a bottle of that choice wine for to-day's dinner, or an
immediate glass of delicious liqueur, you may see on your right hand,
but to the left of the shop, the private door of the house. On the other
side the shop is also a door which opens to a narrow entry. The entry
looks dark, even in the mid-day sun, for it is pretty long, extending
down a portion of the side of the Maison Rouge, which is a deep house,
and terminating in a paved yard surrounded by high buildings. At the end
of the yard is a small dwelling, with two modern windows, one above the
other. Near the under window is the entrance-door, painted oak colour,
with a brass knob, a bell-wire with a curious handle, and a knocker.
This little house the late Monsieur Sauvage had also caused to be
converted into a red one, the same as the larger.
In earlier days, when Jean Sauvage and his wife were putting their
shoulders to the wheel, they had lived in the little house with their
children; the two sons and the daughter, Jeanne. Jeanne Sauvage married
early and very well, an avocat. But since they had left it, the house in
the yard seemed to have been, as the Widow Sauvage herself expressed it,
unlucky. The first of the tenants had died there; the second had
disappeared--decamped in fact, to avoid paying rent and other debts; the
third had moved into a better house; and the fourth, an old widow lady,
had also died, owing a year's rent to Madame Sauvage, and leaving no
money to pay it.
It was of this small dwelling, lying under the shadow of the Maison
Rouge, that Monsieur Carimon had thought. Turning to the Miss Preens, he
gave them briefly a few particulars, and said he believed the house was
to be had on very reasonable terms.
"What do you call it?" exclaimed Lavinia. "The little red house?"
"Yes, we call it so," said Monsieur Carimon. "Emile Sauvage was talking
of it to me the other evening at the café, saying they would be glad to
have it tenanted."
"I fear our good friends here would find it dull," remarked Madame
Carimon to him. "It is in so gloomy a situation, you know, Jules."
"Mon amie, I do not myself see how that signifies," said he in reply.
"If your house is comfortable inside, does it matter what it looks out
upon?"
"Very true," assented Miss Lavinia, whose hopes had gone up again. "But
this house may not be furnished, Mary."
"It is partly furnished," said Madame Carimon. "When the old lady who
was last in it died, they had to take her furniture for the rent. It was
not much, I have heard."
"We should not want much, only two of us," cried Miss Ann eagerly. "Do
let us go to look at it to-morrow!"
On the following day, Friday, the Miss Preens went to the Place Ronde,
piloted by Mary Carimon. They were struck with admiration at the Maison
Rouge, all a fiery glow in the morning sun, and a novelty to English
eyes. Whilst Madame Carimon went into the shop to explain and ask for
the key, the sisters gazed in at the windows. Lying on the wine-bottles
was a small black board on which was written in white letters, "Petite
Maison à louer."
Monsieur Gustave Sauvage, key in hand, saluted the ladies in English,
which he spoke fairly well, and accompanied them to view the house.
The sun was very bright that day, and the confined yard did not look so
dull as at a less favourable time; and perhaps the brilliant red of the
little house, at which Nancy laughed, imparted a cheerfulness to it.
Monsieur Gustave opened the door with a latch-key, drew back, and waited
for them to enter.
The first to do so, or to attempt to do so, was Miss Preen. But no
sooner had she put one foot over the threshold than she drew back with
a start, somewhat discomposing the others by the movement.
"What is it, Lavinia?" inquired Ann.
"Something seemed to startle me, and throw me backward!" exclaimed
Lavinia Preen, regaining her breath. "Perhaps it was the gloom of the
passage: it is very dark."
"Pardon, mesdames," spoke Monsieur Gustave politely. "If the ladies will
forgive my entering before them, I will open the salon door."
The passage was narrow. The broad shoulders of Monsieur Gustave almost
touched the wall on either side as he walked along. Almost at the other
end of it, on his left hand, was the salon door; he threw it open, and
a little light shone forth. The passage terminated in a small square
recess. At the back of this was fixed a shallow marble slab for holding
things, above which was a cupboard let into the wall. On the right
of the recess was the staircase; and opposite the staircase the
kitchen-door, the kitchen being behind the salon.
The salon was nice when they were in it; the paint was fresh, the paper
light and handsome. It was of good size, and its large window looked to
the front. The kitchen opened upon a small back-yard, furnished with a
pump and a shed for wood or coal. On the floor above were two very good
chambers, one behind the other. Opposite these, on the other side of
the passage, was another room, not so large, but of fair size. It was
apparently built out over some part of the next-door premises, and
was lighted by a skylight. All the rooms were fresh and good, and the
passage had a window at the end.
Altogether it was not an inconvenient abode for people who did not go
in for show. The furniture was plain, clean and useful, but it would
have to be added to. There were no grates, not even a cooking-stove in
the kitchen. It was very much the Sainteville custom at that period
for tenants to provide grates for themselves, plenty of which could
be bought or hired for a small sum. An easy-chair or two would be
needed; tea-cups and saucers and wine-glasses; and though, there were
washing-stands, these contained no jugs or basins; and there were no
sheets or tablecloths or towels, no knives or forks, no brooms or
brushes, and so on.
"There is only this one sitting-room, you perceive," remarked Madame
Carimon, as they turned about, looking at the salon again, after coming
downstairs.
"Yes, that's a pity, on account of dining," replied Miss Nancy.
"One of our tenants made a pretty salon of the room above this, and this
the salle à manger," replied Monsieur Gustave. "Mesdames might like to
do the same, possibly?"
He had pointedly addressed Miss Lavinia, near whom he stood. She did not
answer. In fact--it was a very curious thing, but a fact--Miss Lavinia
had not spoken a word since she entered. She had gone through the house
taking in its features in complete silence, just as if that shock at the
door had scared away her speech.
The rent asked by Monsieur Gustave, acting for his mother, was very
moderate indeed--twenty pounds a-year, including the use of the
furniture. There would be no taxes to pay, he said; absolutely none;
the taxes of this little house, being upon their premises, were included
in their own. But to ensure this low rental, the house must be taken for
five years.
"Of course we will take it--won't we, Lavinia?" cried Miss Ann in a loud
whisper. "_Only_ twenty pounds a-year! Just think of it!"
"Sir," Miss Lavinia said to Monsieur Gustave, speaking at last, "the
house would suit us in some respects, especially as regards rent. But we
might find it too lonely: and I should hardly like to be bound for five
years."
All that was of course for mesdames' consideration, he frankly
responded. But he thought that if the ladies were established in it
with their ménage about them, they would not find it lonely.
"We will give you an answer to-morrow or Monday," decided Miss Lavinia.
They went about the town all that day with Madame Carimon; but nothing
in the shape of an apartment could be found to suit them. Madame invited
them again to tea in the evening. And by that time they had decided to
take the house. Nancy was wild about it. What with the change from the
monotony of their country house to the bright and busy streets, the gay
outdoor life, the delights of the table d'hôte, Ann Preen looked upon
Sainteville as an earthly paradise.
"The house is certainly more suited to you than anything else we have
seen," observed Madame Carimon. "I have nothing to say against the
Petite Maison Rouge, except its dull situation."
"Did it strike you, Mary, apart from its situation, as being gloomy?"
asked Lavinia.
"No. Once you are in the rooms they are cheerful enough."
"It did me. Gloomy, with a peculiar gloom, you understand. I'm sure the
passage was dark as night. It must have been its darkness that startled
me as we were going in."
"By the way, Lavinia, what was the matter with you then?" interrupted
her sister.
"I don't know, Nancy; I said at the time I did not know. With my first
step into the passage, some horror seemed to meet me and drive me
backward."
"Some horror!" repeated Nancy.
"I seemed to feel it so. I had still the glare of the streets and the
fiery red walls in my eyes, which must have caused the house passage to
look darker than it ought. That was all, I suppose--but it turned me
sick with a sort of fear; sick and shivery."
"That salon may be made as pretty a room as any in Sainteville,"
remarked Madame Carimon. "Many of the English residents here have only
one salon in their apartments. You see, we don't go in for ceremony;
France is not like England."
On the morrow the little house under the wing of the Maison Rouge was
secured by the Miss Preens. They took it in their joint names for five
years. To complete the transaction they were ushered upstairs to the
salon and presence of Madame Veuve Sauvage--a rather stately looking old
lady, attired in a voluminous black silk robe and a mourning cap of fine
muslin. Madame, who could not speak a syllable of English, conversed
graciously with her future tenants through the interpretation of Mary
Carimon, offering to be useful to them in any way she could. Lavinia
and Ann Preen both signed the bail, or agreement, and Madame Veuve
Sauvage likewise signed it; by virtue of which she became their
landlady, and they her tenants of the little house for five years.
Madame Carimon, and a shopman who came upstairs for the purpose, signed
as witnesses.
Wine and the little cakes called pistolets were then introduced; and so
the bargain was complete.
Oh if some kindly spirit from the all-seeing world above could only
have whispered a hint to those ill-fated sisters of what they were
doing!--had only whispered a warning in time to prevent it! Might not
that horror, which fell upon Lavinia as she was about to pass over the
door-sill, have served her as such? But who regards these warnings when
they come to us? Who personally applies them? None.
Having purchased or hired the additional things required, the Miss
Preens took possession of their house. Nancy had the front bed-chamber,
which Lavinia thought rather the best, and so gave it up to her; Lavinia
took the back one. The one opposite, with the skylight, remained
unoccupied, as their servant did not sleep in the house. Not at all an
uncommon custom at Sainteville.
An excellent servant had been found for them in the person of Flore
Pamart, a widow, who was honest, cooked well, and could talk away in
English; all recommendations that the ladies liked. Flore let herself in
with a latch-key before breakfast, and left as soon after five o'clock
in the evening as she could get the dinner things removed. Madame Flore
Pamart had one little boy named Dion, who went to school by day, but
was at home night and morning; for which reason his mother could only
take a daily service.
Thus the Miss Preens became part of the small colony of English at
Sainteville. They took sittings in the English Protestant Church, which
was not much more than a room; and they subscribed to the casino on the
port when it opened for the summer season, spending many an evening
there, listening to the music, watching the dancing when there was any,
and chattering with the acquaintances they met. They were well regarded,
these new-comers, and they began to speak French after a fashion. Now
and then they went out to a soirée; once in a way gave one in return.
Very sober soirées indeed were those of Sainteville; consisting (as
Sam Weller might inform us) of tea at seven o'clock with, hot galette,
conversation, cake at ten (gâteau Suisse or gâteau au rhum), and a glass
of Picardin wine.
They were pleased with the house, once they had settled down in it, and
never a shadow of regret crossed either of them for having taken the
Petite Maison Rouge.
In this way about a twelvemonth wore on.