The little old man did not insist upon their stopping at his house; he took off his nightcap, sent the concierge to fetch an old, shabby, felt hat, which he carried under his arm in order to preserve it longer; he put on a coat once nut-colored, but of which no one could possibly divine the color now, and did not forget the bill-headed cane, upon which he leaned the more heavily, because he thought that by using a support for part of his weight, he would save the soles of his shoes. They went to the office of the local notary; he received the details of the bargain, and promised to have the deed ready in due form in twenty-four hours. Edouard agreed to return to the village on the following day with the purchase money, and Monsieur Renâré,--such was the proprietor’s name,--agreed to be punctual and to turn over the keys of the house. Everything being settled, they separated, each party well pleased with his bargain. VI A DINNER PARTY IN THE COUNTRY “Now let us think about dinner,” said Edouard, as he and the ladies left the notary’s, “and let us try to find the best restaurant in the place.” “We ought to have asked Monsieur Renâré that, my dear.” “No indeed! I am sure that the old miser goes to the vilest wine-shop, in order to dine the cheaper. But I see yonder a very good-looking house--it is a wine-shop and restaurant,--the _Epée Couronnée_, ‘wedding and other parties.’--What do you say to that, mesdames?” “Very good; let us go to the Epée Couronnée.” They entered the country restaurant; the outer walls were adorned with hams, pies, turkeys, chickens, game, and bunches of asparagus; but as a rule the kitchen of a village restaurant never contains more than one fourth of what is painted on the front wall; and even so, the ovens are often cold. When our Parisians entered the common room of the Epée Couronnée, the proprietor, who was also chief cook, was occupied in shaving, his little scullion was playing with a cup-and-ball, the mistress of the house was knitting, and the two girls who did the heavy work were washing and ironing. “The deuce!” said Edouard in an undertone, “this doesn’t indicate a very well-heated oven! However, in war we must do as soldiers do!” “Yes, my dear; besides, appetite is a very good cook.” At sight of two fashionably-dressed ladies, escorted by a fine gentleman, and of a cabriolet in front of the door, everybody in the restaurant was up in arms. The proprietor threw razor and shaving-mug aside; he partly wiped his face, and came forward, half shaved, to meet the newcomers, to whom he made repeated bows. His wife hastily dropped her knitting and rolled it up, as she made a curtsy, and placed it on a table on which the girls were ironing; whereupon Goton, one of the servants, who then had in her hand a very hot iron, looked up to examine the fine ladies who were coming in, and placed the iron on her mistress’s hand, thinking that she was ironing an apron.