"Madame Charles has just given you a letter to send?" said M. Badinot, to the dealer in et ceteras.
"Yes, sir; my nephew I expect every moment, and he shall go directly."
"No, give me the letter again, I have changed my mind. I shall go myself to the Comte de Saint-Remy," said M. Badinot, pronouncing this aristocratic name very emphatically, and with much importance.
"Here's the letter, sir; have you any other commission?"
"No, Père Micou," said M. Badinot, with a protecting air, "but I have something to scold you about."
"Me, sir?"
"Very much, indeed."
"About what, sir?"
"Why, Madame de Saint-Ildefonse pays very expensively for your first floor. My niece is a lodger to whom the greatest respect ought to be paid; she came highly recommended to your house, and, having a great aversion to the noise of carriages, she hoped she should be here as if she were in the country."
"So she is; it is quite like a village here. You ought to know, sir,—you who live in the country,—this is a real village."