"Ah yes," said Mme. Mauperin, her face lighting up with joy; "it's true, the twenty-second is getting near. Oh, if any one had told me this two years ago! I'm afraid I shall be too happy to live on that day. Just think of it, my dear," and she half closed her eyes and revelled in her dreams of the future. "I shall be simply lovely for the occasion, I can tell you, Denoisel," said Renee. "I have had my dress tried on to-day, and it fits me to perfection. But, papa, what about a dress-coat?" "My old dress-coat is quite new." "Oh, but you must have one made, a newer one still, if I'm to take your arm. Oh, how silly I am; you won't take me in, of course. Denoisel, please keep a quadrille for me. We shall give a ball, of course, mamma?" "A ball and everything that we can give," said Mme. Mauperin. "I expect people will think it is not quite the thing; but I can't help that. I want it to be very festive--as it was for our wedding, do you remember, my dear? We'll dance and eat and drink, and----" "Yes, that's what we'll do," said Renee, "and we'll let all our work people drink till they are quite merry--Denoisel too. It will liven him up a little to have too much to drink." "Well, with all this, I don't fancy Dardouillet's coming----" "What in the world makes you so anxious to see Dardouillet, this evening?" asked M. Mauperin. "Yes, that's true," put in Renee. "That hasn't been explained. Please explain, Denoisel." "How inquisitive you are, Renee. It's just a bit of nonsense--nothing that matters. I want him to lend me his bulldog for a rat-fight at my club to-morrow. I've made a bet that he'll kill a hundred in two minutes. And with that I must depart. Good-night, all!" "Good-night!" "Then, my boy will be here the day after to-morrow, for sure?" said Mme. Mauperin at the door to Denoisel. Denoisel nodded without answering. XXXVII On arriving at Dardouillet's little house at the other end of the village, Denoisel rang the bell. An old woman opened the door. "Has M. Dardouillet gone to bed?" "Gone to bed? No, indeed! A nice life he leads!" answered the old servant; "he's pottering about in the garden; you'll find him there," and she opened the long window of the dining-room. The bright moonlight fell on a garden absolutely bare, as square as a handkerchief, and with the soil all turned over like a field. In one corner, standing motionless and with folded arms, on a hillock, was a black figure which looked like a spectre in one of Biard's pictures. It was M. Dardouillet, and he was so deeply absorbed that he did not see his visitor until Denoisel was quite close to him. "Ah, it's you, M. Denoisel? I'm delighted to see you. Just look now," and he pointed to the loose soil all round. "What do you think of that? Plenty of lines there, I hope; and it's all quite soft and loose, you know," and he put his hand out over the plan of his rising ground as though he were stroking the brow of his ideal hill.