The girl and the child followed Bertrand, who admitted them with some precaution into Auguste's apartment and took them at once to the small salon, saying: "Stay here and rest, and wait a little while." "Has Monsieur Auguste gone out?" "No, but he--he has company; he's busy just at this minute." "Tell him we're here, Monsieur Bertrand, and I'll bet he'll come right away. We won't keep him long." "Yes, I'll tell him that. But wait; I'll be back in a minute." Bertrand left the salon, being careful to close the door behind him. Denise examined the fine furniture and pictures with which the room was embellished, and Coco lay on a couch. But the moments passed and nobody came. The girl's heart sank; she had secretly hoped that Auguste would be glad to see her, and the lack of haste which he displayed in coming to her, made her fear that she had flattered herself too much. She dared not leave the room, or even open a door. Coco had fallen asleep; the girl seated herself in a corner, refrained from making the slightest noise, in order not to wake the child, and gazed ruefully at the basket containing the gifts she had brought to the fine city gentleman. At last Bertrand returned with a dissatisfied air, and said in an undertone: "You are tired of waiting, aren't you? Thunder and guns! I can understand that; but it ain't my fault, mamzelle, because my orders before everything! I don't know anything but my orders." "Isn't Monsieur Auguste at home?" "Oh, yes! he's at home, but he can't see you yet, because his orders--" "But, Monsieur Bertrand, it isn't polite not to come and speak to people; with us, we don't leave our friends all alone like this." "Oh! it's different in Paris, mamzelle. I know what my lieutenant promised to do to me if I disturbed him when he's--busy; and I can't disobey orders." "Then we'll go away." "Wait a little longer; perhaps it won't be very long." At that moment they heard sounds in the reception-room, and Mademoiselle Virginie entered the salon. "Here I am!" she cried; "I snapped my fingers at your orders, I did! That old villain of a Schtrack didn't want to let me come up. 'Monsir isn't in,' he says. But I came on all the same.--I say! who's this little farmer's wench? She's not so bad-looking! Is it on her account that Monsieur Auguste closes his door to his friends?" Denise stared at Virginie in amazement, while Bertrand motioned to the latter to be quiet, saying in an irritated tone: "It seems to me, mademoiselle, that when a concierge says that you can't come up, you should respect his orders." "Go to the deuce with your orders! He told me there wasn't anyone here, and he lied, you see. Bertrand, who on earth is this rustic beauty?" "She's a young girl from the country." "Pardi! I can see for myself that she don't live on Rue Vivienne. What a sly fox he is!--What is she here for? Is it her young one asleep on the couch? The devil! he's quite a big boy already!"