borrowed two thousand francs from La Bougival’s savings to pay the first instalment of the price,—­six thousand francs,—­and obtained good terms for payment of the rest.  As Ursula wished to buy her uncle’s books, Bongrand knocked down the partition between two rooms on the bedroom floor, finding that their united length was the same as that of the doctor’s library, and gave room for his bookshelves.

Savinien and Bongrand urged on the workmen who were cleaning, painting, and otherwise renewing the tiny place, so that before the end of March Ursula was able to leave the inn and take up her abode in the ugly house; where, however, she found a bedroom exactly like the one she had left; for it was filled with all her furniture, claimed by the justice of peace when the seals were removed.  La Bougival, sleeping in the attic, could be summoned by a bell placed near the head of the young girl’s bed.  The room intended for the books, the salon on the ground-floor and the kitchen, though still unfurnished, had been hung with fresh papers and repainted, and only awaited the purchases which the young girl hoped to make when her godfather’s effects were sold.

Though the strength of Ursula’s character was well known to the abbe and Monsieur Bongrand, they both feared the sudden change from the comfort and elegancies to which her uncle had accustomed her to this barren and denuded life.  As for Savinien he wept over it.  He did, in fact, make private payments to the workman and to the upholsterer, so that Ursula should perceive no difference between the new chamber and the old one.  But the young girl herself, whose happiness now lay in Savinien’s own eyes, showed the gentlest resignation, which endeared her more and more to her two old friends, and proved to them for the hundredth time that no troubles but those of the heart could make her suffer.  The grief she felt for the loss of her godfather was far too deep to let her even feel the bitterness of her change of fortune, though it added fresh obstacles to her marriage.  Savinien’s distress in seeing her thus reduced did her so much harm that she whispered to him, as they came from mass on the morning on the day when she first went to live in her new house: 

“Love could not exist without patience; let us wait.”

As soon as the form of the inventory was drawn up, Massin, advised by Goupil (who turned to him under the influence of his secret hatred to the post master), summoned Monsieur and Madame de Portenduere to pay off the mortgage which had now elapsed, together with the interest accruing thereon.  The old lady was bewildered at a summons to pay one hundred and twenty-nine thousand five hundred and seventeen francs within twenty-four hours under pain of execution on her house.  It was impossible for her to borrow the money.  Savinien went to Fontainebleau to consult a lawyer.

“You are dealing with a bad set of people who will not compromise,” was the lawyer’s opinion.  “They intend to sue in the matter and get your farm at Bordieres.  The best way for you would be to make a voluntary sale of it and so escape costs.”