"And your mother, dear Maman Granery! Oh! she longs so for you!" "My mother! Oh! Colinet, please tell her that I love her as dearly as ever, that she will never have to blush for me, and that I---- But, hush! I hear Monsieur de Mardeille." The neighbor from the first floor entered the room, all smiles and amiability and merriment. He presented his respects to Georgette and slapped Colinet familiarly on the shoulder. "Really, monsieur, you are very kind to us," said Georgette; "you have sent us so many things! My poor little pie won't dare to appear beside your gifts!" "You are jesting, my dear neighbor! We will punish your pie with the rest--eh, Monsieur Colinet?" "Yes, monsieur, I ask nothing better." "In that case, messieurs, let us begin." They took their seats at a table which was not elegantly furnished, but was exquisitely neat. Flowers took the place of the wonderful _surtouts_ which adorn the tables of the wealthy; and women have the art of arranging flowers with so much taste, that they always achieve lovely decorative effects with them. And then, too, Georgette did the honors of the table without embarrassment or awkwardness; and lastly, she still wore her little silk petticoat and her jacket, which made her altogether fascinating. "You will excuse me, monsieur, for not dressing for the occasion," she said to her neighbor; "but I am more comfortable this way; and then I should have been afraid of spoiling my beautiful gown." "You are enchanting in this costume, my little neighbor; I should have been terribly distressed if you had made your toilet.--Don't you agree with me, Monsieur Colinet? don't you think that Mademoiselle Georgette is very seductive in this charming négligé?" Colinet was busy eating; however, he replied, shaking his head: "I am used to seeing mamzelle like this! At home, we never dress up, except for the church festivals." "Where is your home, Monsieur Colinet?" The young man glanced at Georgette, who guessed that he had forgotten the name she had told him; so she replied for him: "Belair, monsieur." "Belair! I don't know of any town of that name in Normandie." "It isn't a town; it's a village." "Oh! if it's only a village, that makes a difference. Drink, Monsieur Colinet. Are you fond of wine?" "Yes, monsieur; especially when it's as good as this." "And then, you don't drink much of anything but cider in your province, I suppose?" "Cider?"--And Colinet looked surprised; but Georgette kicked him, under the table, saying: "Why, yes! cider, of course. Cider is much more common at home--in Normandie--than wine. So I advise you not to drink too much of this, Colinet, for it would soon make you tipsy!" "Oh! no, you need have no fear," rejoined Monsieur de Mardeille; "natural wines never do any harm." "Well! that's his business. But if you make him tipsy, he won't be able to start for home to-day."