"May the good God hear you!" said the merchant, rising and bowing respectfully to the Count. "Monsieur, to command."
"So, then, next Sunday—at the tournament. You will come, my good fellow—you—your family—agreed?"
"Certainly, monsieur, certainly. My daughter will not fail to attend the festivity—seeing she is to be the queen of—of?"
"Queen of Beauty, my dear fellow! It is not I who assign the role to her—it is Nature!"
"Oh, monsieur, if you would only allow me—"
"What?"
"To repeat in your name to my daughter the gallantries that you have uttered about her."
"Why, my dear fellow, not only do I authorize you to do so, but I request you. Moreover, without further ceremony, I shall myself carry to Madam Lebrenn and her charming daughter the invitation that I extend to them."
"Oh, monsieur—the poor women—they will feel so flattered by your good will towards us. I shall say nothing about myself; if I were to receive the Cross of Honor I could not feel prouder."
"You are a first class fellow, my dear Lebrenn!"