I really think you might have settled that little debt by this time.”
“And , if you please, tell me how I could have done so?” inquired Cvok , meekly.
“I’ll tell you how immediately,” answered Ledecký, quietly. “Last Shrove-tide Farmer Rousa had his son married in your village, and provided a snug bride for him. It was you who married them in the church. How much did you get for that?”
“My goodness! what could I have got?” answered Cvok. “They asked me and old Naninka to the wedding-feast, and gave us a big parcel of the good things to take home with us, which gave us enough to eat for about four days; and some goslings besides,—that was all.”
“That’s as good as nothing, my dear Cvok; you ought to have asked forty florins for the ceremony. Ten of them you ought to have paid me, and with the rest you should have bought a decent new coat for yourself.” Cvok began to feel warm, and a bitter smile played about his lips, while he moved restlessly upon the chair.
“I hope, with God’s help, I shall yet be able to pay you your ten florins,” he said.
“I do not want to remind you of paying them,” said Ledecký, defending himself. “My only intention was to point out the mistake you made for your own good, because I am sure there is nobody else who would hold the looking-glass to you as openly and candidly as I do. Otherwise, honour bright, I truly respect and love you in spite of all your faults. What matter about the ten florins! Let them go to the bottom. If you were at a pinch, I’d gladly help you with another ten!”
At this moment spinster Regina rushed into the room
