"There's another old acquaintance coming to assist at the wedding, Augustin. I telegraphed to ask her, and she has answered accepting the invitation in the warmest terms."
"Indeed! Who is that, pray?"
"The Baroness," said my mother.
I stared at her; then I cried with a laugh, "Krak? Not Krak?"
"Yes, Krak, as you naughty children used to call her."
"Good Heavens, does the world still hold Krak?"
"Of course. She's rather an old woman, though. You'll be kind to her, Augustin? She was always very fond of you."
"I will treat Krak," said I, "with all affection."
Surely I would, for Krak's coming put the crown of completeness on the occasion. But I was amazed; Krak was utterly stuff of the past.
My mother did not appear to desire my presence longer; I had to take up my own position and receive farewells.