“Don’t be alarmed; on the contrary, I am acting in your interest; you are in love with mademoiselle--very good, I tell her so for you. Who knows? perhaps you will be more fortunate than the rest of us, especially as you have all that a man requires to succeed.” Jéricourt uttered the last words in such an ironical tone that any other than little Astianax would have taken them in very bad part; but he, on the contrary, accepted them as the truth; he smiled and twisted his mouth into the shape of an ace of spades, while his eyes shot flames to right and left. Violette restrained the intense desire to laugh caused by young Astianax’s contortions of feature; she said as she arranged her flowers: “Come, monsieur, choose. Do you want a bouquet? Here’s a very pretty one,--as monsieur doesn’t take it.” “Yes--that is to say, you must make me one; but I’ll explain what you must put in it: I want some heliotrope--that’s the flower of witty people; then some myrtle--that means interest, affection; and a tulip in the centre--that means an honest heart, decent behavior.” “What, my dear Astianax, does the tulip mean all that?” said Jéricourt, laughingly; “I should never have suspected it. The devil! you are very learned about flowers. Go on--what else do you want?” “A few red carnations--they mean that one would fight at need for the object of one’s love; I put them in for myself, you understand; then a poppy and some immortelles--they promise strength and health, and they will please my father, for he is always thinking that he’s sick; he took a bottle of lemonade only this morning--you know, the kind of lemonade that purges.--Surround the whole with pansies, and I shall have a bouquet full of meaning--a genuine _selam_.” “Bravo, young man, bravo! With such bouquets you will make your way very rapidly with the ladies!” “This one is for papa; but later, I hope----” “I am very sorry, monsieur,” said Violette, “but I can’t make such a bouquet as you want; I have no red carnations; you will hardly find any at this season, and I haven’t any myrtle, or any poppies.” “The devil! that’s annoying; but I should be sorry to apply to another flower girl; on the contrary, I mean to give you my custom.” “I am quite sure, monsieur, that no other flower girl will have what you want--not in this quarter, at all events. Take my advice, monsieur, and buy this bouquet that I was offering to monsieur--just roses and violets; it’s very pretty, and it’s the last one; I haven’t got anything left to make one like it.” “I don’t say that it isn’t very nice, but it doesn’t express my meaning--and it isn’t a _selam_, either.” “But just see the pretty roses, the lovely buds! Anybody would say it was a lovely bouquet.” “And I agree with anybody; the bouquet is as pretty as the seller; and faith! that’s saying a great deal!”