Madame Vuillaume had put on her bonnet and shawl again.
“Good-bye!” uttered she, in a solemn tone. “We will at least not encourage your dissoluteness by our presence. As you no longer pay the least attention to our wishes, we have nothing to detain us here. Good-bye!”
And, as through force of habit her son-in-law rose to accompany them, she added:
“Do not trouble yourself, we shall be able to find the omnibus very well without you. Pass first, Monsieur Vuillaume. Let them eat their dinner, and much good may it do them, for they won’t always have one!”
Octave, thoroughly bewildered, drew on one side. When they had gone, he looked at Jules, who was still in a state of collapse on his chair, and at Marie leaning against the sideboard and looking very pale. Neither of them said a word.
“What is the matter?” asked he.
But, without answering him, the young woman commenced scolding her husband in a doleful voice.
“I told you how it would be. You should have waited, and let them learn the thing by degrees. There was no hurry, it does not show as yet.”
“What is the matter?” repeated Octave.
Then, without even turning her head, she said bluntly, in the midst of her emotion!