Now I have wandered from what I was telling you--oh! yes, about Victorine and M. Dubois. He got up from his knees when he saw me, and began fanning her, while she flopped more than ever, but I don't think she felt very faint, her face was so red. And when "the Tug" returned with the water I came away, as they both looked as if they wanted to murder me. The excitement had made Monsieur Dubois' collar quite give way, and he looked a dirtier and more pitiable object than usual. [Sidenote: _The "Dîner des Fiançailles"_] Such an affair the "_Dîner des fiançailles!_" Victorine wore a pink dress too, with horrid bunches of daisies on her shoulders and in her hair; and, as that is dark and greasy, and dragged off her face, and done in the tightest twist at the top, it does not look a suitable place for daisies to be sprouting from. I hate things in the hair anyway, don't you, Mamma? However she was delighted with herself, so it was all right. We waited in the big salon, standing behind Godmamma to receive the company. First arrived the old Baron and the Baronne, and the Marquis and his mother. The Marquis kissed Victorine's hand as well as Godmamma's and Héloise's, and you should have seen her bridling! When he got to me he made the stiffest bow; and just then the Comte and Comtesse de Tournelle, the Marquise de Vermandoise, and the Vicomte were announced, and immediately following, "Antoine" and two cousins of Godmamma's. To finish the party there were a batch of the Marquis's relations, who had come specially from Paris. We were spared Yolande and Marie, who usually sit up to dinner with their German _bonne_, and eat everything that they shouldn't, and then scream in the night. There was a buzz of conversation, and the Vicomte talked to me, but I could not help hearing what the Marquis said to Victorine-- "Vous aimez la bicyclette, mademoiselle?" "Oui, monsieur." "Moi j'aime mieux l'automobile." "Mais il y a toujours de la poussière!" And they are going to be married in a month! The Vicomte kept bending over me and looking silly, and the Marquis fidgeted so that he could not go on talking to Victorine--one eye was always fixed on us. That seemed to please the Vicomte, for he got more and more _empressé_, and I could not help laughing in return. At dinner he took in Mme. de Vermandoise, but sat next me, and on my other hand was one of the cousins, a harmless idiot too timid to speak much, and with all kinds of horrid baby fluffs growing on his face. If men are to wear beards (which I should forbid if I were the Queen) they ought to be shut up till they are really grown. [Sidenote: _A Contretemps_]