Such an appeal did not altogether surprise Nathalie, for when Félicie could not reach her brother by means of her mother or sister, she turned to his wife. And she guessed that the excitement in her manner was connected with some project for the parish, or perhaps a new biretta for the curé. She asked, smiling:
“What is it?”
“Why, of course, that he should come here; it is quite astonishing that Léon should not see the necessity of it for himself!” continued Félicie, too eager to offer explanation. “Every one in the neighbourhood knows that Poissy is the proper place, and if an invitation is not sent, no one will believe it possible that we can have shown such neglect; they will only suppose that for some reason or other we were not thought worthy of the honour. Figure to yourself whether such an idea will be agreeable for us! And with the boy and all, and the importance to him, I should certainly have expected you to be the first to urge Léon to take a serious view of the matter.”
“But you have not told me what the matter is!”
Félicie stared.
“Do you mean to say you don’t know!”
“I have not even an idea.”
“Astonishing! Why didn’t you ask! I should have told you the first thing, if I had not gathered from your manner that you knew all about it already. I thought, of course, that every one had heard; only sometimes—excuse me, Nathalie—you do not seem to take in what we all talk about. Exactly what I want you to do is to see that Léon sends an invitation, and it would be better for me to write it, because then I should take care that it was worded properly. You understand!”
“I understand that you wish to write an invitation in Léon’s name; but to whom, to whom! Is it, for example, to the President of the republic?”
Félicie exclaimed, indignantly: