"What's the name of the village?" "The name? I haven't an idea; what difference does it make? any name will do. That man doesn't know all the suburbs of Rouen. Call it Belair--there are Belairs in every province." "All right; and I'm a Norman, too, I suppose?" "Of course." "And may I still raise calves?" "Why not? cattle are raised everywhere. Hush! I hear my neighbor coming upstairs." Monsieur de Mardeille had crossed the courtyard like a rocket; he ran up the stairs without stopping for breath, entered Georgette's room like a shot out of a catapult, and, without even acknowledging the salutation of Colinet, who rose as he entered, he took his stand in front of the young woman and exclaimed in a hoarse voice: "It is I, mademoiselle!" "So I see, monsieur," replied Georgette, with a smile. "You didn't expect me--that is to say, not at this moment, I fancy." "Why not, pray, monsieur? I never expect you. You come when you please; neighbors don't stand on ceremony." "Yes--but I thought--I didn't expect to find you with company, as you said you never received anybody but me." The girl's face became grave and stern; she looked at Monsieur de Mardeille with a wrathful expression, exclaiming: "Let me tell you, monsieur, that I consider that what you have just said is in the worst possible taste. If, up to the present time, it has suited me to receive no other visits than yours, you may be perfectly sure that it hasn't been from any desire to be agreeable to you." "Mademoiselle, I----" "Upon my word, to hear you, anyone would think that I am dependent on you, that you have some claim over me! You make me blush for you, monsieur!" The ex-beau turned as red as a gobbler; he shuffled his feet about and tore his gloves, but did not know what to reply. "To-day," continued Georgette, "my old playfellow, the friend of my childhood, who has just come from our province to bring me news of my relatives, has called on me. He will always be welcome in my home. I was about to introduce him to you, monsieur, when you began to say such nonsensical things! You were not polite enough to acknowledge the bow my friend Colinet gave you when you came in. You know so well what is customary and proper, monsieur, that you will allow me to believe that you are not in your ordinary frame of mind this morning, and that something has happened to upset you.--Sit down again, Colinet, my friend." Monsieur de Mardeille did not know where he was; Georgette's haughty glance had rooted him to the floor. At last, he turned to Colinet and made him a low bow; then he concluded to take a chair, muttering, as he did so: "Yes, it is true, I have a sick headache this morning, a very bad one; it makes me feel wretched." "All right! tell us that, and we will excuse you for being in an ill humor.--Colinet, my friend, are you in Paris for long?" "Oh! no, Mamzelle Georgette; I can only stay one day; I must go back to-morrow afternoon."