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