"Here is our dear friend; it is really he! he has not failed us! How kind of him! You see, it is a great favor to have him here! He has so many acquaintances, so many invitations! he can hardly keep track of them all.--Have you thought about our little investment?" he added in an undertone. "I have the money with me," said Auguste. "In that case, let us step into my study and fix it up before dinner, so that we need think of nothing but enjoying ourselves." "Very well." "A million pardons, mesdames, for taking our dear Dalville away from you; I promise to restore him to you in five minutes; otherwise I imagine that you would hate me mortally." As he spoke, Destival led Auguste into his study, where the younger man produced his wallet. Having counted the notes, the business agent locked them up in his desk and gave Auguste a receipt for the amount, which Auguste put in his pocket. "That's all right," he said; "I will examine this when I am at home." Then the gentlemen returned to the salon, Dalville eager to make the acquaintance of two or three attractive women of whom he had caught a glimpse, and Destival as radiant as if he had just discovered a diamond mine. The company was increased by several persons among whom Auguste noticed three sisters, young and pretty, whose manners and speech and smiles, however, were never free from affectation; a very merry and talkative young woman, ready to joke with everybody, but especially with the gentlemen; a silly little creature of sixteen, very shy and awkward, who dared not leave her mamma's chair or look at the persons to whom she spoke. A tall man with spectacles, who ran his nose against the paintings, engravings, screens and decanters, persisted in handling and examining everything, shaking his head and emitting an occasional _hum! hum!_ doubtless fraught with meaning; while a short man, embarrassed by his huge paunch, his short arms, and his small head, not knowing what to do with himself, stood first on one leg, then on the other, played with his watch chain, stuck out his tongue when anybody looked at him, and scratched his nose when nobody was looking. Generally speaking, the female portion of the company seemed more select than the male portion; but a business agent has to do with all classes, and it frequently happens that it is not the most fashionably dressed men through whom the most money is to be made. Monin remained almost all the time behind his wife's chair, leaving his station only to inquire for somebody's health; and, when he had put his question to some new arrival, he would return with a smile on his face, open his snuff-box, and offer it to _Bichette_, who, despite her turban, emulated her husband in the size of her pinch. The clock struck six, and Domingo came writhing into the room, and said in a jargon composed of all known languages: "Master, soup served."