by
Grandet, ruled the whole conduct of the wife.

Madame Grandet was attired habitually in a gown of greenish levantine
silk, endeavoring to make it last nearly a year; with it she wore a
large kerchief of white cotton cloth, a bonnet made of plaited straws
sewn together, and almost always a black-silk apron. As she seldom left
the house she wore out very few shoes. She never asked anything for
herself. Grandet, seized with occasional remorse when he remembered how
long a time had elapsed since he gave her the last six francs, always
stipulated for the "wife's pin-money" when he sold his yearly vintage.
The four or five louis presented by the Belgian or the Dutchman who
purchased the wine were the chief visible signs of Madame Grandet's
annual revenues. But after she had received the five louis, her husband
would often say to her, as though their purse were held in common:
"Can you lend me a few sous?" and the poor woman, glad to be able to do
something for a man whom her confessor held up to her as her lord and
master, returned him in the course of the winter several crowns out of
the "pin-money." When Grandet drew from his pocket the five-franc piece
which he allowed monthly for the minor expenses,--thread, needles, and
toilet,--of his daughter, he never failed to say as he buttoned his
breeches' pocket: "And you, mother, do you want anything?"

"My friend," Madame Grandet would answer, moved by a sense of maternal
dignity, "we will see about that later."

Wasted dignity! Grandet thought himself very generous to his wife.
Philosophers who meet the like of Nanon, of Madame Grandet, of Eugenie,
have surely a right to say that irony is at the bottom of the ways of
Providence.

After the dinner at which for the first time allusion had been made
to Eugenie's marriage, Nanon went to fetch a bottle of black-currant
ratafia from Monsieur Grandet's bed-chamber, and nearly fell as she came
down the stairs.

"You great stupid!" said her master; "are you going to tumble about like
other people, hey?"

"Monsieur, it was that step on your staircase which has given way."

"She is right," said Madame Grandet; "it ought to have been mended long
ago. Yesterday Eugenie nearly twisted her ankle."

"Here," said Grandet to Nanon, seeing that she looked quite pale, "as it
is Eugenie's birthday, and you came near falling, take a little glass of
ratafia to set you right."

"Faith! I've earned it," said Nanon; "most people would ha