Chérubin did not finish the sentence; he was thinking of Louise, and something which he could not define told him that his innocent playmate would not be in her proper place in the company of those young ladies who danced so prettily. Monsieur d’Hurbain, who was greatly pleased by the tutor’s arrival, because he saw therein an additional safeguard for Chérubin, saluted Monsieur Gérondif with a gracious smile, and said: “You did well to follow your pupil, monsieur, and we relied upon your doing so. Pray take a seat at the table--there is a place awaiting you.” “Yes, yes, sit there, Monsieur Gérondif,” cried Chérubin, pointing to the vacant seat. “And you, my good Jasmin, stand by me.” “I know my duty, monsieur le marquis, and I will take my proper station.” As he spoke, the old retainer put a napkin over his arm and planted himself behind Chérubin’s chair. As for Monsieur Gérondif, he did not wait for the invitation to be repeated; he pushed Monsieur Poterne aside, took his seat at the table and swallowed the soup that was placed before him, crying: “This is the banquet of Belshazzar! It is the feast of Eleusis! the wedding festival of Gamache! Never assuredly was there a more sumptuous repast!” “I say! that gentleman is talking in poetry,” said Malvina to her neighbor. “Yes,” replied Daréna, “I believe that it was monsieur who wrote the tragedy called the _Earthquake of Lisbon_.” Monsieur Gérondif smiled graciously at the count, murmuring with an air of modesty: “I write verse rather easily, but I never wrote a tragedy, that is sure, certainly.” “I beg pardon, monsieur, I took you for Master André; you have much affinity with him.--But let us drink to monsieur le marquis’s health, and to the pleasure of having him in Paris at last.” Daréna’s proposition was eagerly welcomed; the glasses were filled with madeira, and emptied in Chérubin’s honor; the four dancers drank without heel-taps, and poured down madeira in a way to arouse an Englishman’s envy. Meanwhile Monsieur Poterne, having been cheated out of the seat to which he aspired, had decided to remain on his feet and to assist Jasmin, in preference to retiring. So he took his stand behind Daréna; but while making a pretence of passing him a plate now and then, he asked him in undertones for whatever he saw on the table. Daréna passed him well filled dishes, and Poterne, instead of serving them to the guests, turned his back and rapidly made away with the contents.