Mere Fourcy did not wait to be urged any more; and when tranquillity was restored, Denise said once more:

"And Monsieur Auguste, madame?"

"Oh, yes! to be sure! I haven't told you how he came to be ruined. The first reason why I haven't is that I don't know anything about it; but still, it's easy enough to guess: the fellow acted like a goose, gambling, spending a lot, and paying his mistresses. I've said to him twenty times: 'Auguste, you're driving too hard!' Yes, I've told him so very often, but I always used the familiar thou, because I knew him when he was such a little fellow!"

"I should have said the young gentleman was about your age," said Mere Fourcy.

"So he is, very near; but we were brought up together--we had the same nurse--so that I'm deeply attached to him; and although he lives on the fifth floor now, that won't prevent my going to breakfast with him, as I told Bertrand yesterday, when he told me that the funds were low."

"But Monsieur Auguste must be very unhappy, it must make him very sad to be ruined," sighed Denise.

"He, my dear girl! not a bit of it! Oh! you don't know him; he's just as wild and heedless as ever. Bertrand said so yesterday. Poor Bertrand! I saw a tear in his eye while he was telling me about his master's follies! He's a faithful servant, that fellow, a real friend! Give me something to drink, Semiramis, for, I notice that, while I am talking, you do nothing but fill your own gla.s.s. Semiramis is the name of an estate belonging to my cousin; she has estates in all the suburbs of Paris."

"I say, Denise," cried Mere Fourcy, "if that gentleman's lost his money, hadn't we ought to give back what he left for Coco? What a pity the cottage is all built!"

"What's given is given, Madame Fourcy," said Virginie; "that's a principle I've never departed from. It's a mistake to act on the theory of returning what you've received."

"Ah! if I had all I've given to Theodore!"

"He's a husband of my cousin. She's given him the measles twice, and you can understand that she wouldn't be overjoyed to have them returned.

Give me something to drink, Semiramis."

Denise took no further part in the conversation; she was pensive and entirely engrossed by what she had learned on the subject of the young gentleman from Paris. The two grisettes, finding themselves very comfortable at the table, jabbered to their hearts' content. Mere Fourcy opened her eyes and ears, not always able to understand the pretty stories that those ladies told her; but as they did not give her a chance to put in a word, there was nothing for her to do but to stare in amazement.

They had been at table a long time, Mere Fourcy seated between them, doing nothing but turn her head from side to side. Denise had left the room, un.o.bserved; the poor child's heart was heavy; thinking that Auguste was in distress, she longed to let her tears flow and wished to conceal them from the Parisians. Coco, who was playing in the yard, saw her pa.s.s. The boy saw that she was unhappy, so he dropped his toys, ran to her and said:

"What's the matter, my little Denise?"

"You don't know, Coco, that your kind friend, who has given you so many things, is poor now, and unhappy perhaps."

"We must carry him some more eggs and cake, my little Denise; he'll like to have them, if he's poor. When I lived in the old hut with grandma, I used to be so happy when you brought me some white bread! I didn't use to have it very often then."

Denise kissed Coco; what the child said had given rise to a secret hope in her heart. She wiped her eyes and returned to the living-room, where the party had been increased by the arrival of a villager, formerly the school-teacher, who had come to pay Mere Fourcy a visit, and at sight of the two young ladies from Paris, had come near knocking over a wardrobe, in order to make a more graceful bow; while Virginie winked at Cezarine, who hid her face in her napkin to avoid laughing in the face of the newcomer, whose features were an exact reproduction of the absurd masks sold in Carnival time.

"Good-day, neighbor Mauflard," said Mere Fourcy to the ex-school-teacher.

"Good-day, neighbor Fourcy."

"How goes it, neighbor Mauflard?"

"Very well, neighbor Fourcy. Faith, I didn't have anything to do, so I says to myself: 'I'll just go and see neighbor Fourcy.'"

"That's right good of you, neighbor."

"But if you've got company, I don't want to be in the way."

"Do stay, Monsieur Mauflard," said Virginie; "we should be terribly distressed to frighten you away."

"I don't believe that monthieur ith afraid of the fair thex."

The neighbor replied with a second bow, so low that he could have picked a coin from the floor with his teeth; then he took a chair and seated himself.

"You'll take a drink, neighbor Mauflard, won't you?"

"With pleasure, Mere Fourcy."

A gla.s.s was filled for neighbor Mauflard, and this he emptied after bowing to the whole company; then he settled back in his chair, murmuring:

"That's good, very good--always the same."

"Who is neighbor Mauflard?" Virginie asked Aunt Fourcy in a whisper.

"Oh! he's a very fine man. He used to keep a school in the village; but not long ago he retired, as he didn't have but two scholars."

"I'm thorry for that; I'd have thent Hecuba to him."

"What does she mean by Hecuba?"

"That's my cousin's daughter--a charming child; she isn't three yet, and she bites at everything."

"Oh! that'th tho; the'd bite at marble!"

"Neighbor Mauflard is one of the most knowing men hereabout."

"Anyone can see that by looking at him. But he don't say anything. Have another gla.s.s, Monsieur Mauflard?"

The neighbor's only reply was a prolonged snore; according to his custom, he had already fallen asleep.

"Why, he's asleep!" said Virginie.

"Oh, yes, that's his way; as soon as he comes in, he sits down and shuts his eyes."

"That certainly makes him a very pleasant companion!"

"He'th like that villain of a Theodore, who alwayth uthed to go to thleep ath thoon ath he had thaid thome blackguardly thing to me."

"She means her husband, who must always have his siesta. He brought that habit from Spain, with chocolate."

"I say, Denise," cried Mere Fourcy; "I know why neighbor Mauflard came here to-day; didn't we say at Claudine's last night that we'd have the party here to-night?"

"Oh! dear, yes!" Denise replied dejectedly; "that was a very unfortunate idea of yours."

"A village party!" said Cezarine, leaving the table; "oh! what fun that will be! I've often heard of them, but I never thaw one."

"Nor I," said Virginie; "and yet I've seen a great many things. I say!

if we should pa.s.s the night here, we could attend the party. What do you say, cousin?"

"I thay that cabs won't cotht any more to-morrow morning than to-night."