"Mama is quite wonderful. But amazing! And the preparations are something splendid. I suppose this new boy will contribute his share to the wedding ring for maman?"
"But certainly. It is lucky there are no more of us men to contribute, or we should have had to have the ring studded with diamonds. A fine sight it will be, Bathilde. Think of papa and mama married at St. Gervais by the same curé that married them fifty years ago! And twenty grandchildren, to say nothing of their seven children, and counting this boy of my Marie's, sixteen great-grandchildren. Falaise has certainly much to be proud of."
Madame Chalumeau flopped her omelet again, slid it to a platter and set a carafe of cider on the table.
"Là! Now eat, Colibris, and tell me more. How is Louis? And Henriette?"
"All well, all well," returned her brother-in-law, who was apparently full of the quality, the name of which is so often abused by English people, joie-de-vivre. "Henriette has new upper teeth, and looks ten years younger. Louis is as usual very silent, but otherwise is well. I am curious to see Victor. It was a misfortune, my being away when he was here last. He must have been greatly disappointed. He has always been very fond of me, you will remember. Even as boys, we had much in common."
Madame Chalumeau's eyes twinkled as she nodded. Colibris' harmless vanity always amused her.
"Yes, yes, I know. He inquired very particularly for you. A great man, Victor."
"Yes, yes. I remember once when we were boys a man came who felt the skull and read the character. He said to Victor, 'You have great talent, my little one,' and to me he said, 'You are going to be a very great man, Colibris.' But I did not care to develop my talents. I was always very modest and domestic. The curé at home always says, 'Now, Jacques Colibris—there's a man who is a model husband and father.'" He drank a deep draught of cider.
"They arrive to-morrow," interpolated Madame Chalumeau hastily, with a hunted expression, "Victor and Félicité and Théodore. Also Théo's fiancée, an English girl. I have a letter from Victor—I will read it to you."
Taking the letter from her pocket, and ruthlessly interrupting his remarks on the English as viewed by himself, she began to read: