After the performance they returned to the apartment for supper. Jules was surprised to find the table steaming with hot dishes, bright with flowers and with wine-glasses. Madeleine, who seemed to be in the secret, put on an apron, and proceeded to assist Charlotte. "We've prepared a little feast for you," Madame Perrault explained, "in honour of Blanche's engagement. Félix has provided the champagne." Berthier rubbed his hands and smiled, and they took their places at the table. They were all hungry and in good spirits. This was the happiest time of the day for Blanche; though she never consciously worried about her work, she always felt relieved when her performance was done, and she was free to go home and rest. The little rosy-cheeked Charlotte busied herself around them, passing dishes and bringing on fresh ones. "It's a shame to keep this poor child up so late," said Berthier, when she had left the room for a moment. "Why not send her to bed?" "I'll send her as soon as she brings in the rest of the things," Madame Perrault replied. "She and Madeleine can have something to eat together. I sha'n't have to send Madeleine home with you to-night, Jules. We've made a bed for her in Charlotte's room. She's a good creature, your Madeleine." Charlotte came in with the rest of the dishes, and Madame Perrault told her to eat something, and go to bed. "And tell Madeleine not to wait up for us. You can clear the things away in the morning. Did Jeanne go to bed at nine o'clock, Charlotte?" "Yes, madame." "And without any trouble?" "Yes, madame." "What did she do to amuse herself during the evening?" Charlotte's cheeks took on a deeper red. "She tried to imitate Mademoiselle Blanche in the circus," she confessed. "Ah, that accounts for the broken chair! Good night, Charlotte." Then, as the girl left the room, Madame Perrault sighed. "That Jeanne will be the death of me." "I'll take her in hand when she comes to me," Berthier laughed. "We'll have to find a husband for her. That will cure her of her craze for the circus." "A husband for Jeanne, little Jeanne!" Madame Perrault exclaimed in horror. "She's barely fourteen." "And in two years she'll be a woman. I was in love with you at fifteen. Don't you remember? We thought of eloping." "_Taisez-vous!_" cried Madame Perrault, flushing, and trying not to join in the laughter that the speech excited from Jules. "You make me a great fool before my daughter and my new son." "He isn't your son yet," Berthier insisted, to tease her. "But he will be soon." "That's just what I wanted you to say!" Jules cried. "The sooner the better. Tomorrow would suit me." The glasses had been filled with champagne, and Berthier lifted his glass high in the air, crying: "Let us drink to the _fiancés_! May their marriage be long and their engagement short! Here's health and happiness to them!" They all stood up smiling and drank together. Then as they sat down again, Berthier went on: