“It is this, madame. I am afraid after all that I shall not be able to make them, for you see we are refugees who have scarcely more than we now wear. Where then would I get materials?”
“Pauvre petite, if that is all it is a matter soon mended. It takes so very little, you see, and if you will allow me I shall be glad to furnish what you may need. Should I not be permitted to do this much for a comrade of my Honoré? It is a very small matter indeed.”
This delicate way of putting it quite eased Lucie’s mind, so she accepted the offer as simply as possible and returned to find Paulette taking a comfortable nap in a corner and Victor out in the garden with Monsieur Pierre.
Victor settled the bill and the guests parted from their hosts with many polite phrases on both sides. It was not within the limits of Paulette’s curiosity to refrain from asking if it were not very expensive, this meal, and they were barely out of hearing when she put the question.
“But no,” Victor assured her. “If I were to tell you the price you would at once establish yourself permanently at the restaurant Honoré. It was in vain that I protested at the small price. Monsieur Pierre insisted that it was his regular charge for a breakfast and nothing would induce him to take a sou more. Did I think he would cheat a friend and that friend his son’s comrade? Therefore you see there was nothing left to say.”
“It may be his regular price,” commented Paulette shrewdly, “but I venture to say that he has never before given this same menu.”
“Now then,” said Victor, “we have done our duty by my friend Honoré as well as to our own appetites, there is then the next thing. Shall we go back as we came, or shall we take the Metro after having had a walk in the Bois which shall make us the more ready for our dinner in the city when the time comes?”
“Another meal, Victor?” exclaimed Lucie.
“Why not? Doesn’t one dine on Sundays?”
“Yes, but not when one has had such a feast.”