"Very good; I agree. In truth, I am inclined to think that's the better way! With your abstraction, your sighs, you would never be able to order a dinner; you would order veal for fish, and radishes for prawns, while I excel in that part of the game. You see, I have lived, and lived well, I flatter myself! Some madeira first of all, waiter--and put some Moet in the ice; meanwhile, I will make out our menu!" The madeira having been brought, Cherami immediately drank two glasses to restore the tone of his stomach; then he took the bill of fare, and took pains to order the best of everything. The waiter, who scrutinized our friend's costume while he was writing, would probably have displayed less zeal in serving him, had not his companion begun by slipping five francs into his hand. But that spontaneous generosity had given another direction to the waiter's ideas, and he concluded that the gentleman with the check trousers was a Scotchman who had not changed his travelling costume. While Cherami wrote his order, young Gustave was unable to sit still for a moment; he went constantly to the door and took a few steps in the corridor, then returned to question the waiter, to whose particular attention Cherami commended his menu. "Waiter, is the wedding party at table yet?" "They sat down just a moment ago, monsieur." "Above all things, don't have the fillet cooked too much." "Never fear, monsieur." "Where is the bride sitting?" "At the middle of the table, monsieur." "And well supplied with truffles." "By whose side?" "I think her father's on one side, monsieur." "And on the other?" "A salmon-trout." "A lady, monsieur." "If it isn't fresh, we won't take it." "How is the lady's hair dressed?" "She has lilies of the valley on her head." "What's that! lilies of the valley on a salmon-trout! I never saw it served so." "Not the trout, monsieur; I was speaking of a lady--one of the wedding party." "And the groom, where is he sitting?" "Opposite his wife, monsieur." "Next, a capon _au gros sel._" "Does he look at her often?" "Done to a turn." "Faith! monsieur, I didn't have time to notice as to that." "What's that! Sapristi! you haven't time to tell the chef to cook it to a turn?" "Pardon, monsieur; monsieur was asking me about the bridegroom.--Now I am at your service." And the waiter, to escape these questions, which confused him, took the menu and disappeared. Cherami poured out another glass of madeira, saying to his new friend: "Come, come, my dear Gustave; if you persist in imitating the bear of Berne, by going from this room into the corridor, and returning from the corridor to this room, you won't do yourself any good. You know that the wedding party is at the table. Naturally, they will be there some time. So follow their example. Take a seat opposite me, recover your tranquillity, and let us dine. See, here's our soup, just in time, exhaling a delicious odor. Allow me to help you."