But the gout had prevented the gallant from following the bouquet; and in order not to allow the lady to think that he had forgotten her, we have seen that he ordered Chicotin to call upon Madame de Grangeville again and to present to her this time a bunch of violets. "I am deeply touched by Monsieur de Roncherolle's souvenirs," the baroness said to the young messenger. "But although I love bouquets, say to him who sends you that I should much prefer to see him than these flowers. Why does he not come himself?" Chicotin did not reply: "Because he has the gout;" for Roncherolle had forbidden him to mention that. He said whatever came into his head, and returned to make a report of his errand. But a few days later, Roncherolle, feeling able to walk, bent his steps toward Madame de Grangeville's abode. XXXVI TWO FORMER LOVERS "Madame, there is a gentleman here who wishes to see you," said Lizida to her mistress one day. "Did he give his name?" "He would not; he says that he prefers to afford madame the pleasure of recognizing him." "It is Monsieur de Merval, no doubt--the same gentleman who came last summer?" "Oh, no! it's not that gentleman, madame; I should have recognized him. It's one whom I never saw before." "What sort of looking man? Has he a distinguished appearance? is he stylishly dressed?" "So far as being distinguished goes--yes, madame. He acts as if he was in the habit of being waited on. As for his dress, why, his clothes don't look as if they'd just come from the tailor's!" "Arrange my cap, Lizida; does my hair look well?" "Madame is pretty enough to paint." "Well then, show the gentleman in; if by any chance it's the unknown friend who sends me bank notes!" "Oh! he doesn't look like it, madame; or else he's well disguised." The maid left the room, and in a moment Roncherolle was ushered into his old friend's presence. Madame de Grangeville was seated on a _causeuse_, dressed in a pretty morning gown, with a charming cap on her head, beneath which great clusters of hair, curled _a la neige_, served as a frame to a face which unfortunately could not be arranged like the hair. The days of privation had left accursed traces which refused to disappear, despite cosmetics and inventions of the perfumer. Wrinkles are most persistent acquaintances; when they once visit us, they never go away. Roncherolle had made himself as fine as possible; his linen was extremely white, his whole costume scrupulously neat. Unluckily that immaculate neatness could not prevent his coat's being threadbare, his overcoat shabby and of an old-fashioned cut, his trousers of a color that was no longer worn, his waistcoat very ragged on the edges, and his hat much too glossy from overmuch brushing.