When Denoisel entered the Mauperins' drawing-room that evening he found every one more gay and cheerful than usual. There was a look of happiness on all the faces; M. Mauperin's good-humour could be guessed by the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Mme. Mauperin was most gracious, she positively beamed and looked blissfully happy. Renée was flitting about the room, and her quick, girlish movements were so bird-like that one could almost imagine the sound of a bird's wings.
"Why, here's Denoisel!" exclaimed M. Mauperin.
"Good-evening, m'sieu," said Renée, in a playful tone.
"You haven't brought Henri with you?" asked Mme. Mauperin.
"He couldn't come. He'll be here the day after to-morrow without fail."
"How nice of you! Oh, isn't he a good boy to have come this evening," said Renée, hovering round and trying to make him laugh as though he had been a child.
"Oh, he's a bad lot! Ah, my dear fellow—" and M. Mauperin shook hands and winked at his wife.
"Yes; just come here, Denoisel," said Mme. Mauperin. "Come and sit down and confess your sins. It appears that you were seen the other day in the Bois—driving——"
She stopped a minute like a cat when it is drinking milk.
"Ah, now your mother's wound up!" said M. Mauperin to Renée. "She's in very good spirits to-day—my wife is. I warn you, Denoisel."