"Excellent, my good Pierre," I returned, not wishing to hurt his feelings. "Excellent for the gardens of the Tuileries, but my garden is such a simple one."
"Pardon, monsieur," he said, with a touch of mingled disappointment and embarrassment, "they shall be replanted, of course, just as monsieur wishes." And Pierre went to digging weeds with a will while I went back to my own work.
At noon Pierre knocked gently at my study door.
"I must breakfast, monsieur," he apologized, "and get a little sleep. I have promised my brigadier to get back at three."
"And to-morrow?" I asked.
Again the shoulders shrugged under the uniform.
"Ah, monsieur!" he exclaimed helplessly. "Malheureusement, to-morrow I am not free; nor the day after. Parbleu! I cannot tell monsieur when I shall be free."
"I understand, Pierre," said I.