"Oh dear! how my head jumps!" said Madame Destival, putting her hand to her forehead. "Isn't it any better?" asked Athalie, seating herself on a couch. "No; quite the contrary." "Lie down again, my dear; I will stretch myself out on this couch; I shall not be sorry for a little rest myself. This hot sun affects my nerves." Madame Destival seemed disinclined to return to her bed; she walked about the room impatiently, and said: "Oh, no! I don't want to go to sleep again, it's almost dinner-time." "How on earth did you ever succeed in sleeping here? Your husband makes such a noise with his 'present arms,' and his 'ready, aim!'" "It didn't disturb me at all." "What did you do with Monsieur Dalville?" "What did I do with him? Why, nothing." "I thought he was with you." "With me?" "When you left me in the swing, didn't you take him away with you, and leave in his place the charming Monsieur Monin, whose society is so entertaining?" "Monsieur Auguste left me immediately; he must have gone for a walk to the village." "Do you know, my dear, that I should not have recognized Monsieur Dalville from the picture that you drew of him. In the first place, you said that he wasn't good-looking, that he had a common look." "I did not say common, I swear." "That he hadn't good style, that he was a rake, a ne'er-do-well, a man whose visits might compromise a woman." "Oh! you exaggerate, my dear!" "I beg your pardon, but you said all that, you drew a shocking portrait of him! For my part, I think him very good-looking, and I like his manners very much." "That is very fortunate for him, madame." "Well! what on earth are you doing? You are putting on your belt inside out." "Why, so I am! I have fits of absent-mindedness." "Shall I fasten your dress for you, my dear?" "Thanks; I can dress myself." At that moment the sound of something being placed against the window made Emilie jump. "What is that?" she said. "It was in that closet, I think; something fell." "No, madame, the noise didn't come from the closet; it was at the window." The ladies went to the window and saw Monsieur Destival, who had just placed a ladder against the outer sill. "What in the world are you doing, monsieur?" exclaimed Madame Destival in alarm; "what is the meaning of this ladder and all this confusion?" "My dear love, I know now all the evolutions there are; the only thing left for me to learn is to storm a fort; that's the bouquet, so Bertrand says, and he's going to show me how. You, mesdames, are inside the fortress, you represent the enemy; you must try to keep us out, but we will enter the citadel in spite of you." "What is the meaning of this absurd nonsense, monsieur?" "It's the bouquet, madame, I tell you.--Come, Bertrand; one! two! At the double-quick, isn't it?" "I am not willing that you should storm my room, monsieur.--Take away that ladder, Bertrand, I beg you.--You are mad, monsieur! Do you have to storm a fort to catch a wolf?"