Madame Malaumain, contrary to expectation, appeared at an upper window at the first knock, came down in a neat white peignoir, and after a quick stare at Théo held out her hand.
"C'est le petit Joyselle," she said cordially, "avec sa future?"
"Yes—but if you don't give us breakfast, she will die, and then where shall I be?" he answered, laughing. "How is M. Malaumain?"
"He is well, thank you, M. Théo. He has made many more interesting discoveries about the Conqueror. He is very superior, M. Malaumain," she added, turning to Brigit. "He was in service with many great people, so he is never shy, as I am."
Chatting cheerfully, she set a small iron-table outside the door for them, and then looking thoughtfully at them and murmuring, "Coffee, boiled eggs, fresh bread and honey," disappeared, leaving them alone in the slowly awakening Palace St. Gervais.
"What time is the Mass?" asked Brigit, as a tall cart clattered up to the fountain and a brisk middle-aged woman climbed down from it and began setting up her stand for the day's market.
"At ten. I hope grand-père will behave well. I sometimes think he is more mischievous than—than silly, poor old man. The curé who married them called yesterday and congratulated him, whereupon grand-père looked up and remarked that he didn't mind being married again, but that most men got a new wife the second time! Poor old M. Cléry almost died."
"And what did grand-mère say?" asked Brigit.
"Nothing. Just looked at him. Petite mère said it was a dreadful scene, but grand-père was much pleased with himself, and chuckled all day."
"I rather suspect his—sincerity, too, since I saw him trying to make Papillon eat a domino. Oh, what's that?"