“The devil! the devil!” said Chambourdin, ogling the ladies who arrived. “Why, some of them are passably good-looking. Who is that brunette, with high color and her hair dressed _à la Fontange_? She has a saucy little air which attracts me immensely. Is she a product of the neighborhood?” “Yes, she belongs here, or at all events she has property here.” “Has she a husband?” “She has one who is three times her age.” “Then, it’s about the same as if she hadn’t any!” “She is very gay, very fond of laughing; she rides and fences and dances admirably.” “Sapristi! why on earth didn’t you give her a part in the play, Monsieur Glumeau? I should have been delighted to fence with her, to try the _four blows_ with her.” Monsieur Glumeau was no longer there; he had gone to receive his guests; but little Astianax, made exceedingly loquacious by the champagne, replied: “My mother and sister aren’t very fond of Madame Boutillon--that is the pretty brunette’s name; they say that her manner with men is too free.” “Oh! of course! that’s just like the women; when one of them happens to be a little more lively, a little less prudish, and doesn’t pick her expressions, but says frankly what she thinks, why she is voted bad form at once! she is too free! I snap my fingers at it; I like them that way myself, and I will look after the little Boutillon!” “Ah! here is Miaulard, messieurs.” “Good-evening, Miaulard; are you still hoarse?” “I am getting better, much better.” “The deuce you say! you seem hardly able to speak to-day.” “Yes, but the last time I couldn’t speak at all.” “Ah! here is the baroness, messieurs, the famous Baroness de--de--what’s her name?” “De Grangeville.--What a beautiful dress!” “What style! that woman must have been extremely pretty once.” “Ah! here is my friend Jéricourt, the literary man, with Monsieur Alfred de Saint-Arthur.” Astianax ran to meet his friend, who was already looking about with a mocking air at the gardens and at the people whom he saw in them. “Good-evening, my dear neighbor; it is very kind of you to have remembered my invitation.” “I should have been very sorry not to accept it, my dear Astianax; I am told that there is always much entertainment at your house, and that the supper is always excellent.--By the way, allow me to introduce my friend, Monsieur de Saint-Arthur.” “Highly flattered, monsieur; I have had the honor of seeing you with monsieur.” “True, we met on the boulevard.” “At the booth of a pretty flower girl.” “Yes, I am not ashamed to say that I am one of her admirers.” “I was, but she has fallen infernally in my esteem, since that day--you remember the occasion, Monsieur Jéricourt?” “Oh! very well, indeed; but after all, why should that make any difference to you? The flower girl is none the less pretty.” “Of course not! But, you see, I thought that she was innocence personified.”