For this cynic, since his first meeting with Herminie, had made numerous attempts to see the young girl, but the portress proving above bribery, he had written several times to Herminie, who had treated his letters with the disdain they deserved.
"Yes, mademoiselle, I saw the old snake hanging around again yesterday," continued the portress, "and when I planted myself in the doorway to watch him, he sneered at me as he passed, but I just said to myself: 'Sneer away, you old viper. You'll laugh on the other side of your mouth one of these days.'"
"I cannot help encountering this man on the street sometimes," said Herminie, "for he seems to be always trying to put himself in my way; but I needn't tell you, Madame Moufflon, that he must never be admitted to the house on any pretext whatever."
"Oh, you needn't worry about that, mademoiselle, he knows pretty well who he has to deal with by this time."
"But I forgot to mention that a young lady will probably call this morning, too, Madame Moufflon."
"Very well. But if M. Olivier should be here when the young lady calls, what then? Shall I admit her just the same?"
"Certainly."
"Oh, I never told you, did I, mademoiselle, that M. Bouffard, who was so rough to you, but who has been as gentle as a lamb ever since you began giving his daughter lessons, is always praising you to the skies now. He said to me only the other day, 'There are plenty of rosières who are not half as good and modest as Mlle. Herminie. She is a young lady who—'"
But a peal of the door-bell put a sudden end to these eulogiums.
"It is M. Olivier, I expect," said Herminie. "Show him in, please, Madame Moufflon."