"Of course."

"And may I still raise calves?"

"Why not? cattle are raised everywhere. Hush! I hear my neighbor coming upstairs."

Monsieur de Mardeille had crossed the courtyard like a rocket; he ran up the stairs without stopping for breath, entered Georgette's room like a shot out of a catapult, and, without even acknowledging the salutation of Colinet, who rose as he entered, he took his stand in front of the young woman and exclaimed in a hoa.r.s.e voice:

"It is I, mademoiselle!"

"So I see, monsieur," replied Georgette, with a smile.

"You didn't expect me--that is to say, not at this moment, I fancy."

"Why not, pray, monsieur? I never expect you. You come when you please; neighbors don't stand on ceremony."

"Yes--but I thought--I didn't expect to find you with company, as you said you never received anybody but me."

The girl's face became grave and stern; she looked at Monsieur de Mardeille with a wrathful expression, exclaiming:

"Let me tell you, monsieur, that I consider that what you have just said is in the worst possible taste. If, up to the present time, it has suited me to receive no other visits than yours, you may be perfectly sure that it hasn't been from any desire to be agreeable to you."

"Mademoiselle, I----"

"Upon my word, to hear you, anyone would think that I am dependent on you, that you have some claim over me! You make me blush for you, monsieur!"

The ex-beau turned as red as a gobbler; he shuffled his feet about and tore his gloves, but did not know what to reply.

"To-day," continued Georgette, "my old playfellow, the friend of my childhood, who has just come from our province to bring me news of my relatives, has called on me. He will always be welcome in my home. I was about to introduce him to you, monsieur, when you began to say such nonsensical things! You were not polite enough to acknowledge the bow my friend Colinet gave you when you came in. You know so well what is customary and proper, monsieur, that you will allow me to believe that you are not in your ordinary frame of mind this morning, and that something has happened to upset you.--Sit down again, Colinet, my friend."

Monsieur de Mardeille did not know where he was; Georgette's haughty glance had rooted him to the floor. At last, he turned to Colinet and made him a low bow; then he concluded to take a chair, muttering, as he did so:

"Yes, it is true, I have a sick headache this morning, a very bad one; it makes me feel wretched."

"All right! tell us that, and we will excuse you for being in an ill humor.--Colinet, my friend, are you in Paris for long?"

"Oh! no, Mamzelle Georgette; I can only stay one day; I must go back to-morrow afternoon."

The neighbor's face became amiable once more; he straightened himself up in his chair.

"What makes you in such a hurry, Colinet?"

"I have several places to stop at on my way back--to collect the price of cattle we've sold."

"Monsieur is a cattle raiser?" Mardeille inquired.

"Yes, monsieur; I deal in horned cattle mostly, because there's always a market for them."

"Yes, yes, it's an excellent business," said Monsieur de Mardeille.--Then he leaned toward Georgette and said to her, almost timidly:

"You're not wearing your brooch?"

"Well, I should think not--with my jacket!" laughed Georgette. "Is it customary to put on a brooch so early in the morning?"

"Have you got a chicken to roast?"[G] queried Colinet. "I'll help you, if you want; I know all about chickens."

Georgette laughed aloud, and Monsieur de Mardeille tried to do the same; but his laughter was not sincere.

"We're not talking about chickens, my dear Colinet, nor of the kind of _broche_ you have in mind," said the young shirtmaker, when her merriment had somewhat abated. "Oh! I don't live so magnificently as that; my repasts are more modest. Still, my friend, if you will breakfast with me to-morrow, before you go away, I will have a sausage and a meat pie; with those and a good appet.i.te, one can breakfast perfectly--isn't that so?"

"To be sure, mamzelle; I won't fail to be here."

"If Monsieur de Mardeille would like to join us, and doesn't consider our breakfast unworthy of him, he would give us great pleasure by accepting my invitation."

Our dandy's face became radiant. He bowed and said:

"Unworthy of me! A repast over which you preside! Why, on the contrary, it will seem delicious to me, and I accept your kind invitation with all my heart. But I will ask your permission to bring a few bottles of wine from my cellar; that will do no harm."

"Oh! bring whatever you choose; we are not proud; we accept whatever anyone offers us."

"In that case, my charming neighbor, it's a bargain; I will breakfast with you to-morrow. Meanwhile, I will leave you, for you may have a thousand messages to give monsieur for your relations and friends, commissions to intrust to him, and I should be very sorry to incommode you. Au revoir, my dear neighbor!--Bonjour, monsieur, until to-morrow!--At what hour do you breakfast, neighbor?"

"At ten o'clock, monsieur."

"Very good; I will be on time."

And the ex-beau retired, as well pleased as he had been furious when he arrived; a few words from Georgette had sufficed to effect this revolution in his humor; to be sure, she had a way of saying them which precluded the possibility of a reply.

After Monsieur de Mardeille had gone, Colinet seemed to be reflecting profoundly, and Georgette asked him:

"What are you thinking about, my friend?"

"About that gentleman who was here just now. How he spoke to you when he came in!"

"And you heard how I answered him."

"Oh! that did my heart good! Is that old beau making love to you?"

"Yes; but don't be alarmed, Colinet; he's no more dangerous to me than Monsieur Dupont was."

"I believe you, as you say so. But what made you ask him to breakfast with us to-morrow? I should have liked it better to be with you alone."

"And so should I, my friend; but I did what I thought it best to do, for I don't want to break with my neighbor yet, and that is what would have happened if I hadn't invited him. I am going to answer my sister Suzanne's letter now, and then write to Aimee. I'll give you the letters to-morrow."

"Then, I'll go out and do some errands; for you know how it is in the country: when anyone comes to Paris, people try to see who can give him the most errands to do. I promised to dine with some friends; so I shan't see you again till to-morrow."

"Come early, then, so that we can have time to talk a little before breakfast."

"Yes, Mamzelle Georgette. Oh! what a pity that we two aren't going to breakfast all alone together!"