"When you entertain strangers, you don't give them just a family dinner; that's too informal. I have invited all the Brid'oisons; we have dined there several times, and this was a good opportunity to return their courtesy; besides, you have business relations with Monsieur Brid'oison."

"Oh! he finds me a borrower now and then. Will they bring their son?"

"Of course; they are mad over him, as you know. Naturally, we shall have Madame Putiphar; it is she who is arranging the match; and then, she knows the count's intimate friend, a very jovial young man, so it seems.

Then I have invited your sister, Madame Trichon; she's an excellent woman."

"Yes, and a widow, without any children, whose heir I should be, if she should happen to die. But she's very hearty--she eats a lot!"

"To offset her, I have invited Monsieur Calle; he's a very distinguished young man, and he eats almost nothing."

"Do you really mean it? But what is the explanation of your inviting him?"

Aldegonde bit her lips for a second, trying to think of a reply. At last she found one:

"He is a very good musician; he sings well, and plays the flageolet. In the evening it will be pleasant to have a little music."

"Does the young man accompany himself on the flageolet when he sings?"

"No, but he can play for the dancing; I have invited several more people to come in in the evening; and if they want to dance----"

"Whom have you invited?"

"The Boulard ladies, your friend Dubotte and his wife----"

"Oh! he never comes!"

"He said that he would try to come this time. Then the brothers Bridoux.

There'll be quite a lot of us. But we shall have to pa.s.s round refreshments during the evening."

"Very well; you can give them cocoa."

"No, monsieur, no! Cocoa does well enough when we have n.o.body but your sister and Monsieur Calle, who is very abstemious; but for this Italian count we must have something else."

"Well, lemonade, then. Squeeze a lemon in two or three quarts of water; it's very refreshing."

"That's my affair, monsieur; I will think it over, and find a way to provide what is right. You will dress, monsieur, I trust?"

"Ain't I all right as I am?"

"No, certainly not; your linen is soiled, and your waistcoat all covered with spots. You must put on a black coat."

"I don't own such a thing."

"You don't own a black coat?"

"What's the use, when I never wear one? But I have a black overcoat that I've only had five years; it's the same as new."

"Well, monsieur, dress as well as you can. I have told your daughter to beautify herself, too; she must make a favorable impression on this Monsieur Miflores!"

"Oh! young girls are always coquettish enough."

"As for myself, I shall try to make myself presentable and to do you credit. I must now see how things are going in the kitchen."

Monsieur Mirotaine, being left alone, heaved a prodigious sigh; then, after reflecting for some time, he went hastily down into his cellar with a pitcher full of water; he took several bottles of wine and drew the corks, then filled some empty bottles with two parts of wine, and one of water from his pitcher. Having thus manipulated four bottles, he took them upstairs, chuckling over what he had done. Then he took two bottles of the Chateau-Leoville which had been given him, and was about to doctor them in the same way; but he heard footsteps; it was Aldegonde returning; she took possession of the two bottles which she saw on the table, and the generous wine escaped the baptism which awaited it.

While Monsieur Mirotaine was making up his mind to dress, and madame was devoting all her attention to her toilet, Juliette, who had been dressed for a long time, and who would gladly have disfigured herself in order to create an unfavorable impression on this guest in search of a wife, but who was as pretty as ever, because, even when a woman wants to make herself look ugly, she always dresses so that she does not look so--Juliette was busy setting the table, the cook having too much to do about her saucepans to find time to lay the cloth. The girl sighed as she arranged the plates, and said to herself:

"If this dinner were to celebrate my engagement to Lucien, what a difference it would make! how happy I should be! But they haven't even invited poor Lucien; and yet, only last night, father sent him from the Barriere du Trone to Pa.s.sy, and didn't even pay for a seat on top of an omnibus!"

Madame Mirotaine came to look at the table; she held in her hand divers small slips of paper, on which the names of the guests were written.

"We must arrange these carefully," said Aldegonde.

"What are you going to do with those slips of paper, madame?"

"They are to show each person the seat he or she is to take at table."

"Why, can't they sit wherever they choose?"

"No; it is good form to put each guest's name at his place beforehand; that makes it more convenient about taking seats."

"Then I beg you, madame, not to put me beside this stranger, this Italian count."

"On the contrary, Juliette, you must sit beside him. As he is coming here for the purpose of meeting you, he must be able to talk with you."

"You know that I never talk, madame; put him beside you, he will be much better pleased."

"But, Juliette, I am not the one whom this gentleman wants to marry."

"That's a great pity!"

"What a child it is! The best I can do is to place the count between us, at my left; at my right, I shall put the man who deals in sugar, who is very agreeable, so Madame Putiphar a.s.sures me. Whom shall I put next to him? It's very embarra.s.sing! It's a regular science to arrange your company right."

"Put Monsieur Brid'oison there."

"No, we must have a lady next to a man; the s.e.xes should be mingled as much as possible. Ah! Madame Putiphar; this gentleman knows her, and he will be very glad to talk with her. And then--great heavens! what a puzzle! Ah! Monsieur Calle--that will do; Monsieur Calle, then Madame Brid'oison, Monsieur Mirotaine, Madame Trichon, and Monsieur Brid'oison.

There! it's all done."

"But that makes only ten, and there are eleven plates. You have forgotten to write a slip for one guest."

"Pshaw! whom have I forgotten?"

"Artaban--young Brid'oison."

"Oh! to be sure; he's not a pleasant neighbor, that urchin; his father makes him do gymnastic exercises, and he's always thrashing about to show his limberness and strength; he keeps kicking you if you're near him."

"Put him next to me; I don't care."

"No; we'll put him between his father and Madame Trichon; they will make him keep quiet. Now, it's arranged as well as possible. I must run and finish dressing; for it's after four o'clock. And you, Juliette?"