"Why, yes, I have concealed it," replied Saint-Arthur, stroking his chin; "I'm concealing lots of other things, too." "Oh! you surprise me more and more, my dear." Roncherolle, being forced to keep his room, was not sorry someone should come to visit him; the nonsense of his little messenger made him laugh; the story of his new friend's _bonnes fortunes_ diverted him mightily; and when Saint-Arthur said to him: "Don't you think that I am a fortunate mortal with the ladies?" he would reply with a slight shrug: "It's a fact that the ladies are very fond of men like you." Saint-Arthur asked his neighbor several times to teach him some of his methods of drinking champagne; but Roncherolle simply smiled and replied: "Those things can't be taught except at the table." At last the gout entirely disappeared, and one day Saint-Arthur failed to find Roncherolle in his room; he was sorely disappointed, for his neighbor's witty conversation had become necessary to him; he retained some scraps of it now and then. It is always well to frequent people of intelligence, they allow themselves to be robbed so readily! The little dandy rose early the next day, in order to find his neighbor before he went out; he caught him as he was leaving his bed and said to him: "You are better, I see, as you go out now?" "Thank God! did you expect me to remain in that old easy-chair forever?" "No, of course not; I am delighted that you are better; but I missed you yesterday, because, when I talk with you, I always remember some of the funny little stories that you tell so well, and I amuse Zizi with them. Yesterday, I had nothing at all to tell her, and she called me stupid; that's just a way of speaking, you know----" "I understand perfectly.--I am very sorry, but your charmer may find you stupid again to-day, for I have no inclination to keep my room, in order to tell you stories." "And that isn't what I came to ask you to do, but something much better. Will you do us the honor to dine with us to-day?" "Where?" "At Bonvalet's, corner of Rue Chariot." "Oh! I know Bonvalet's! I have often dined there." "Well, does it suit you to-day?" "It suits me very well." "Ah! you delight me. There will be Zizi Dutaillis, you know." "Yes, you have already told me that. I shall be enchanted to make her acquaintance; I have always been very fond of professional ladies." "There will also be a friend of mine, an author--Monsieur Jericourt; do you know him?" "I never heard of him." "He's a fellow of great talent, who will go a long way." "Who says so? himself?" "No, a newspaper that he writes for." "Oh! that amounts to the same thing. However, I will give your friend credit for as much talent as you choose; I am of an obliging disposition." "We will dine at half-past five; I know that it's bad form to dine so early, but it's on Zizi's account; she acts in the last play, and there is no fun in hurrying." "All right! I promise to be punctual."