"One is always suitably attired in the country, monsieur; and these gentlemen, you will observe, are dressed just as I brought them away from a ball, without giving them time to change their clothes. But you will breakfast with us, I trust?" "With pleasure, madame." "Oh, yes!" said La Thomassinière, shaking Monsieur de Cligneval's hand; "oh, yes! the marquis will have some breakfast; he promised. I'll have some, too." "Take your seats then, messieurs, and be content with what I have to give you." Madame gave the marquis a seat by her side; Monsieur de la Thomassinière would have liked to sit on the marquis's other side, but he was obliged to be content with a seat opposite him. Monsieur de Cligneval did full justice to the breakfast; he declared everything excellent, delicious, exquisite, although La Thomassinière exhausted his breath saying to him: "Oh! I usually have much better things to eat. But we didn't know, madame was not notified. I hope to treat you much better another time. This is an unpretentious repast; but when I choose, I do things very nicely." While praising the food, Monsieur de Cligneval found time to bestow compliments on the hostess. The marquis was well bred; he carried a little too far perhaps the determination to make his good breeding apparent; but he was agreeable and witty, and the whole party was soon in high spirits, even Monsieur de la Thomassinière, who never laughed because he thought it bad form, but who laughed very loud now in order to copy monsieur le marquis. When she passed the fruit, Athalie found several that were not ripe. "These apricots are good for nothing," she said to a servant. "We must have some better ones than these," cried La Thomassinière. "Tell the gardener to bring some at once--the best she can find." The servant obeyed, and Mademoiselle Tapotte soon arrived with a basket filled with superb fruit, which she handed to Athalie, keeping her eyes on the ground as if she dared not look at the guests; whereas, on the contrary, the young men scrutinized the buxom creature, making comments in undertones, and Monsieur de la Thomassinière cast furtive glances at her. "That is right!" said Athalie, as she took the basket, "these are fine. See, messieurs, they have just been picked; they look much better.--Another time, Tapotte, don't send me green fruit." "No, madame," said the gardener, with a very awkward curtsy; then she took her leave, much redder than when she came. "What did you call that stout damsel, madame?" inquired one of the young men. "Tapotte, monsieur." "Indeed! that's a queer name." "It's amusing," said the marquis. "Yes, very amusing," rejoined La Thomassinière. And Auguste reflected that the name was well deserved. "She's not a bad-looking girl," said one of the young men. "Oh! what can you see that's attractive in that creature?" cried Athalie; "she's heavy and awkward and vulgar."