"Three coffees!" ordered Jean.
Another hour passed in sipping, and the decanter of brandy was exhausted without Buteau declaring himself. He advanced and retired, and spun matters out, just in the same way as he had haggled for the cow. The thing was as good as settled; but, all the same, a certain amount of consideration was necessary. At last he turned abruptly to Lise and said to her:
"Why haven't you brought the child?"
She began to laugh, understanding this time that the affair was clenched. Then she gave him a slap, feeling pleased and indulgent, and confined herself to replying:
"Isn't this Buteau a horrid fellow?"
That was all. He laughed too. The marriage was decided.
Jean, hitherto embarrassed, now seemed relieved, and became gay. At last he even spoke right out.
"You have done well, you know, to return; I was about to step into your shoes."
"Yes, so I was told. Oh, I wasn't uneasy; you would, no doubt, have given me warning!"
"Why, certainly! The more so as it's better it should be you, on account of the child. That's what we always said, didn't we, Lise?"