"We thought over there that you were quarrelling."
"Ah! you thought that, did you?" answered Jean, by way of saying something.
"Yes, especially grandmamma; that's why she sent me to tell Bijou about the tea. I say, Bijou isn't worried about anything, is she?"
"Well, now, what kind of worry do you fancy she could have, my dear fellow?" And then, with a smile, he added: "Who do you imagine would undertake to cause her any worry? It seems to me that anyone who did venture to would have a bad time of it in this house."
"She's so sweet, and so nice always," answered the boy, with great warmth. "As for me, why, I just adore her; and Paul does, too, and so does Henry, and M. Giraud, and Bertrade's kids, and the abbé, and everyone, in fact; even little La Balue is gone on her, and he's never gone on anyone. Yes, he was telling her I don't know what up in a corner of the room after dinner, and then, when she was singing—did you ever see such eyes as he was making at her?—oh, no! if you had only just seen him——"
"Do shut up!" exclaimed Jean irritably, "you wear everyone out, if you only knew it, my dear Pierrot."
When Bijou came back to the drawing-room, Henry de Bracieux waylaid her.
"I say," he began, in a cross-grained tone, "what was La Balue telling you just now that appeared to be so interesting?"
"Where?"
"Here, after dinner."