Then they spoke of children; how girls were more precocious than boys; though it would be wrong to deduce too much from Lucien’s unintelligent face. In another year he would doubtless lose all his gawkiness and become quite a gallant. Finally, Madame Deberle resumed her embroidery, making perhaps two stitches in a minute. Hélène, who was only happy when busy, begged permission to bring her work the next time she came. She found her companions somewhat dull, and whiled away the time in examining the Japanese pavilion. The walls and ceiling were hidden by tapestry worked in gold, with designs showing bright cranes in full flight, butterflies, and flowers and views in which blue ships were tossing upon yellow rivers. Chairs, and ironwood flower-stands were scattered about; on the floor some fine mats were spread; while the lacquered furnishings were littered with trinkets, small bronzes and vases, and strange toys painted in all the hues of the rainbow. At the far end stood a grotesque idol in Dresden china, with bent legs and bare, protruding stomach, which at the least movement shook its head with a terrible and amusing look. “Isn’t it horribly ugly?” asked Pauline, who had been watching Hélène as she glanced round. “I say, sister, you know that all these purchases of yours are so much rubbish! Malignon calls your Japanese museum ‘the sixpenny bazaar.’ Oh, by the way, talking of him, I met him. He was with a lady, and such a lady—Florence, of the Varietes Theatre.” “Where was it?” asked Juliette immediately. “How I shall tease him!” “On the boulevards. He’s coming here to-day, is he not?” She was not vouchsafed any reply. The ladies had all at once become uneasy owing to the disappearance of the children, and called to them. However, two shrill voices immediately answered: “We are here!” Half hidden by a spindle tree, they were sitting on the grass in the middle of the lawn. “What are you about?” “We have put up at an inn,” answered Lucien. “We are resting in our room.” Greatly diverted, the women watched them for a time. Jeanne seemed quite contented with the game. She was cutting the grass around her, doubtless with the intention of preparing breakfast. A piece of wood, picked up among the shrubs, represented a trunk. And now they were talking. Jeanne, with great conviction in her tone, was declaring that they were in Switzerland, and that they would set out to see the glaciers, which rather astonished Lucien. “Ha, here he is!” suddenly exclaimed Pauline. Madame Deberle turned, and caught sight of Malignon descending the steps. He had scarcely time to make his bow and sit down before she attacked him. “Oh,” she said, “it is nice of you to go about everywhere saying that I have nothing but rubbishy ornaments about me!” “You mean this little saloon of yours? Oh yes,” said he, quite at his ease. “You haven’t anything worth looking at here!” “What! not my china figure?” she asked, quite hurt.