"Wall for wall!" he said.

In 1827 Vilquin offered Dumay a salary of six thousand francs, and ten
thousand more as indemnity, if he would give up the lease. The cashier
refused; though he had but three thousand francs from Gobenheim, a
former clerk of his master. Dumay was a Breton transplanted by fate
into Normandy. Imagine therefore the hatred conceived for the tenants
of the Chalet by the Norman Vilquin, a man worth three millions! What
criminal leze-million on the part of a cashier, to hold up to the eyes
of such a man the impotence of his wealth! Vilquin, whose desperation
in the matter made him the talk of Havre, had just proposed to give
Dumay a pretty house of his own, and had again been refused. Havre
itself began to grow uneasy at the man's obstinacy, and a good many
persons explained it by the phrase, "Dumay is a Breton." As for the
cashier, he thought Madame and Mademoiselle Mignon would be ill-lodged
elsewhere. His two idols now inhabited a temple worthy of them; the
sumptuous little cottage gave them a home, where these dethroned
royalties could keep the semblance of majesty about them,--a species
of dignity usually denied to those who have seen better days.

Perhaps as the story goes on, the reader will not regret having
learned in advance a few particulars as to the home and the habitual
companions of Modeste Mignon, for, at her age, people and things have
as much influence upon the future life as a person's own character,
--indeed, character often receives ineffaceable impressions from its
surroundings.



CHAPTER II