"No wonder they wanted a _coiffeur_! Oh, why was I not here to fetch him!" thought Angelot. The beauty of whiteness of skin and perfect regularity of feature is sometimes a little cold; but Hélène was flushed with her walk in the warm night, her lips were scarlet; and if her grey eyes were strangely sad and wistful, they were also so beautiful in size, shape, and expression that Angelot felt he could gaze for ever and desire no change. He started and blushed when his own name roused him from staring breathlessly at Mademoiselle Hélène, who since the lights came had given him one or two curious, half-veiled glances. "And now let me congratulate you on this fine young man," said Monsieur de Sainfoy in his pleasant voice. "The age of my Georges, is he not? Yes, I remember his christening. His first name was Ange--I thought it a little confiding, you know, but no doubt it is justified. I forgot the rest--and I do not know why you have turned him into Angelot?" Madame de la Marinière smiled; this was a way to her heart. "Yes, it is justified," she said proudly. "Ange-Marie-Joseph-Urbain is his name. As to the nickname, it is something literary. I refer you to his father." "It is a name to keep him true to his province," said Monsieur Urbain. "Read Ronsard, my friend. It was the name he gave to Henry, Duc d'Anjou. But I must fetch the book, and read you the pretty pastoral." "My dear friend, you must excuse me. I am perfectly satisfied. A very good name, Angelot! But to read or listen to that ancient poetry before the flood--" They all laughed. "What a wonderful man he is!" said the Comte to Madame Urbain. "As poetical as he is practical." It all seemed pleasant trifling, then and for the rest of the evening. The young countryman of Ronsard's naming was rather silent and shy, and the Comte's daughter had not much to say; the elders talked for the whole party. This, they thought, was quite as it should be. But the boy who had said that morning, "Young girls are hardly companions for me," and had talked lightly of his father's finding a husband for Mademoiselle de Sainfoy, lay down that night with a girl's face reigning in his dreams; and went so far as to tell himself that it was for good or evil, for time and for eternity. CHAPTER VII THE SLEEP OF MADEMOISELLE MOINEAU "We must make the best of it," said Madame de Sainfoy. "To be practical is the great thing. I know you agree with me." She had a dazzling smile, utterly without sweetness. Madame de la Marinière said it was like the flashing of sunbeams on ice; but it had a much more warming and inspiring effect on Urbain. "It is one of the few consolations in life," he said, "to meet with supreme good sense like yours."