"Why, no, Monsieur," I answered, holding myself on the defensive. "Well, Célestine, I think you charming! There!" "Really, Monsieur?" "Adorable, in fact; adorable, adorable!" "Oh! Monsieur!" His fingers had left my hand, and were caressing my neck and chin with fat and soft little touches. "Adorable, adorable!" he whispered. He tried to embrace me. I drew back a little, to avoid his kiss. "Stay, Célestine, I beg of you. I do not annoy you, do I?" "No, Monsieur; you astonish me." "I astonish you, you little rogue. I astonish you? Oh! you don't know me." His voice was no longer dry. A fine froth moistened his lips. "Listen to me, Célestine. Next week I am going to Lourdes; yes, I conduct a pilgrimage to Lourdes. Do you wish to come to Lourdes? I have a way of taking you to Lourdes. Will you come? Nobody will notice anything. You will stay at the hotel; you will take walks, or do what you like. And I will meet you in the evening." What stupefied me was not the proposition in itself,--for I had been expecting it a long time,--but the unforeseen form which Monsieur gave it. Yet I preserved all my self-possession. And, desirous of humiliating this old rake, of showing him that I had not been the dupe of Madame's dirty calculations and his own, I lashed him squarely in the face with these words: "And M. Xavier? Say, it seems to me that you are forgetting M. Xavier? What is he to do while we are amusing ourselves in Lourdes, at the expense of Christianity?" An indirect and troubled gleam, the look of a surprised deer, lighted in the darkness of his eyes. He stammered: "M. Xavier?" "Why, yes!" "Why do you speak to me of M. Xavier? There is no question of M. Xavier? M. Xavier has nothing to do with this." I redoubled my insolence. "On your word? Oh! don't pretend to be ignorant. Am I hired, yes or no, to be company for M. Xavier? Yes, am I not? Well, I am company for him. But you? Oh! no, that is not in the bargain. And then, you know, my little father, you are not my style." And I burst out laughing in his face. He turned purple; his eyes flamed with anger. But he did not think it prudent to enter into a discussion, for which I was terribly armed. He hastily picked up his bag, and slunk away, pursued by my laughter. The next day, apropos of nothing, Monsieur made some gross remark to me. I flew into a passion. Madame happened along. I became mad with anger. The scene that ensued between us three was so frightful, so low, that I cannot undertake to describe it. In unspeakable terms I reproached them with all their filth and with all their infamy. I demanded the return of the money that I had lent M. Xavier. They foamed at the mouth. I seized a cushion, and hurled it violently at Monsieur's head. "Go away! Get out of here, at once, at once!" screamed Madame, threatening to tear my face with her nails.