“We shall not find them at home,” he said. “This is Sunday; and they are
no doubt at church.”
“We shall find them, grandpapa; for they always take tea at half-past
seven, for their brother’s, the clerk’s sake. But we must make haste.”
The old gentleman did make haste; but it is a long way from the
New-Market Place to Hill Street; for the sisters Mechinet lived on the
Square, and, if you please, in a house of their own,--a house which was
to be the delight of their days, and which had become the trouble of
their nights.
They bought the house the year before the war, upon their brother’s
advice, and going halves with him, paying a sum of forty-seven thousand
francs, every thing included. It was a capital bargain; for they rented
out the basement and the first story to the first grocer in Sauveterre.
The sisters did not think they were imprudent in paying down ten
thousand francs in cash, and in binding themselves to pay the rest in
three yearly instalments. The first year all went well; but then came
the war and numerous disasters. The income of the sisters and of the
brother was much reduced, and they had nothing to live upon but his pay
as clerk; so that they had to use the utmost economy, and even contract
some debts, in order to pay the second instalment. When peace came,
their income increased again, and no one doubted in Sauveterre but that
they would manage to get out of their difficulties, as the brother was
one of the hardest working men, and the sisters were patronized by “the
most distinguished” ladies of the whole country.
“Grandpapa, they are at home,” said Dionysia, when they reached the
Square.
“Do you think so?”
“I am sure. I see light in their windows.”