Читать книгу Aunt Jo's Scrap Bag (Vol. 1-6) - Louisa May Alcott - Страница 29

'For, though on pleasure she was bent,

She had a frugal mind.'

Forth they went, as soon as dinner was over, and found the waters all abroad also; for every man was playing away with a hose, every woman scrubbing her door-steps, and the children gaily playing leap-frog in the puddles.

'Nasty, damp place!' croaked the Raven, obscuring her disgusted countenance behind the inevitable grey cloud, and gathering her garments about her, as they hopped painfully over the wet stones, for sidewalks there were none.

'I find it refreshing after the dust and heat. Please detach Mat from that shop window, and come on, or we shall see nothing before dark,' replied the ever amiable Amanda.

Matilda would glue herself to every jeweller's window, and remain fascinated by the richness there displayed, till led away by force. On this occasion, however, her mania led to good results; for, at the ninth window, as her keepers were about to drag her away, a ring of peculiar antiquity caught their eyes simultaneously, and, to Mat's amazement, both plunged into the little shop, clamouring to see it. A pale emerald, surrounded by diamond chippings set in silver, with a wide gold band cut in a leafy pattern, composed this gem of price.

'A Francis First ring, sold by a noble but impoverished family, and only a hundred francs, Madame,' said the man, politely anxious to cheat the fair foreigners out of four times its value.

'Can't afford it,' and Lavinia retired. But the shrewd Amanda, with inimitable shrugs and pensive sighs, regretted that it was so costly. 'A sweet ring; but, alas! forty francs is all I have to give.'

The man was desolated to think that eighty francs was the lowest he was permitted to receive. Would Madame call again, and perhaps it might be arranged?

Ah, no! Madame is forced to depart early, to return no more.

Mon Dieu! how afflicting! In that case, sixty would be possible for so rare a relic.

Madame is abîmé, but it is not to be. Forty is the utmost; therefore Merci, and Bonjour.

'Hold! Where shall it be sent?' cries the man, giving in, but not confessing it, with awkward frankness.

A thousand thanks! Madame will pay for it at once; and laying down the money, she sweetly bows herself away, with the ring upon her finger.

'What a people!' ejaculated Lavinia, who always felt like a fly in a cobweb when she attempted to deal with the French, in her blunt, confiding way.

'It is great fun,' answered Amanda, flashing her ring with satisfaction after the skirmish. 'Will Madame kindly direct me to the house of Jacques Cœur?' she added, addressing an old woman clattering by in sabots.

'Allez toujours à droit en vous appuyant sur la gauche,' replied the native, beaming and bowing till the streamers of her cap waved in the wind.

They followed these directions, but failed to find the place, and applied to another old woman eating soup on her door-step.

'Suivez le chemin droit en tombant à gauche' was the reply, with a wave of the spoon to all the points of the compass.

'Great heavens, what a language!' cried Lavinia, who had been vainly endeavouring to 'support' herself, as she 'fell' in every direction over and into the full gutters.

The house was found at last, an ancient, mysterious place, with a very curious window, carved to look as if the shutters were half open, and from behind one peeped a man's head, from the other a woman's, both so life-like that it quite startled the strangers. Murray informed the observers that these servants are supposed to be looking anxiously for their master's return, Jacques having suddenly disappeared, after lending much money to the king, who took that mediæval way of paying his debts.

Service was being held in the church, and the ladies went in to rest and listen, for the music was fine. Much red and white drapery gave the sanctuary the appearance of a gay drawing-room, and the profane Lavinia compared the officiating clergy to a set of red furniture. The biggest priest was the sofa, four deacons the arm-chairs, and three little boys the foot-stools, all upholstered in crimson silk, and neatly covered with lace tidies.

As if to rebuke her frivolity, a lovely fresh voice from the hidden choir suddenly soared up like a lark, singing so wonderfully that a great stillness fell on the listeners, and while it lasted the tawdry church and its mummery were quite forgotten, as the ear led the heart up that ladder of sweet sounds to heaven. Even when the others joined in, one could still hear that child-voice soaring and singing far above the rest, as if some little angel were playing with the echoes among the arches of the roof.