"Well, now, what kind of worry do you fancy she could have, my dear fellow?" And then, with a smile, he added: "Who do you imagine would undertake to cause her any worry? It seems to me that anyone who did venture to would have a bad time of it in this house." "She's so sweet, and so nice always," answered the boy, with great warmth. "As for me, why, I just adore her; and Paul does, too, and so does Henry, and M. Giraud, and Bertrade's kids, and the abbe, and everyone, in fact; even little La Balue is gone on her, and he's never gone on anyone. Yes, he was telling her I don't know what up in a corner of the room after dinner, and then, when she was singing--did you ever see such eyes as he was making at her?--oh, no! if you had only just seen him----" "Do shut up!" exclaimed Jean irritably, "you wear everyone out, if you only knew it, my dear Pierrot." When Bijou came back to the drawing-room, Henry de Bracieux waylaid her. "I say," he began, in a cross-grained tone, "what was La Balue telling you just now that appeared to be so interesting?" "Where?" "Here, after dinner." "Here?" repeated Bijou, apparently trying to recall something to her memory, "after dinner? Ah, I remember; why, he was talking about you!' "About me?" "Yes, about you! He thinks you are very handsome, but he also thinks that you do not know how to make the most of your good looks." "Have you finished making game of me?" "I assure you that I am not making game of you--not the least bit in the world. He even advised me to tell you that instead of your frightful stand-up collars--these are his words, you know, and not mine--you ought to wear--what did he call them now?--oh, Van Dyck collars, which would not cover your neck up, for it appears that your throat is superb, and your head so well set on your shoulders; and then you have lovely teeth! I only wish you could hear him sing the praises of your personal appearance." "Of my personal appearance! Mine?" "Why, yes; you thought, perhaps, that he was talking to me of mine? Not at all! He informed me, too, that he was going to tell you all that in poetry; not the Van Dyck collars, but the rest." "That young man is an idiot!" "Oh, dear me, he is very harmless." "You are so good-hearted always, you never dig into anyone. Ah, attention! they are packing up, the La Balue crew!" And Henry, in a low voice, and apparently delighted, finished up with a "Hip! hip! hurrah!" M. de la Balue, who was just coming out of the hall with a heap of cloaks, looked at him in astonishment, while at the doorway a little family quarrel took place. The good man wanted to make his wife and daughter wrap their heads up in some very ordinary-looking knitted shawls, so that they should not get a chill. He was obliged, however, to give in at last.