"Let's taste the cream." Then he made a slight grimace and added: "Oh! my estate is the place for fine dairy products! This can't be compared with it; it's an entirely different thing! And our fowls! ah! they are delicious. To be sure, they are fed with such care! Now you people think that you are eating something good when you eat a chicken like this. Well, let me tell you that if you should see my poultry yard at Fleury, you would look on this as rubbish." "It is very fortunate then that we know nothing about it," retorted Madame Destival, with a meaning glance at her husband. He, to change the subject of that pleasant conversation, turned to Monin, who had not said a word since he had been at the table, being engrossed by the second joint of a chicken, which he seasoned now and then with snuff, glancing occasionally with the eye of a connoisseur at a magnificent pie that stood in front of him, to which he seemed to be saying: "How's your health?" "Your appetite seems to be in good condition, neighbor?" said Destival. "Yes, yes, it's the weather that does it. Do you take snuff?" And Monin offered his box to Destival, then to La Thomassinière, who, after taking a tiny pinch, took from his pocket a gold snuff-box at which he gazed for some time with a complacent expression. "This is Virginia," he said, "the very best snuff there is; it's very expensive, but I don't care for any other kind. Try it, monsieur." Monin, who never declined a pinch of snuff, was about to partake of the Virginia, when they heard the wheels of a carriage entering the courtyard, and Julie hurried into the dining-room, saying: "Here's Monsieur Dalville; his cabriolet has just come in." Madame Destival smiled with satisfaction, and the petite-maîtresse hastily ordered her plate to be changed, so that the débris of her repast might not be seen in front of her. Monsieur Destival ran out to receive his dear friend, and Monsieur de la Thomassinière thought: "This Dalville must be a millionaire, to have his arrival make such a sensation." As for Monin, with his pinch of Virginia in one hand and his fork in the other, confused by the bustle caused by Dalville's arrival, he put a dainty piece of ham to his nose and the superfine snuff in his mouth. He discovered his mistake, however, and put each article in its proper place. V THE DRILL, THE SWING, THE STORM, AND THE MUSIC Destival, having gone out to greet Dalville, looked about for him in vain; he saw nobody near the cabriolet save little Tony and Bertrand, the latter of whom gave him a military salute. "Well! where is he? which way did he go in?" inquired Destival. Bertrand passed his tongue over his lips and scratched his ear, seeking a suitable reply; at last he said in a firm voice: "Monsieur Dalville will be here as soon as I am." "But you seem to have got here before him; did he leave you on the way?" "Yes, monsieur." "Does he know anyone in the neighborhood?" "It would seem so, monsieur."