He was just taking from his violin-case a little bunch of forget-me-nots and wild roses, which were already drooping their poor little heads. He held them out timidly to Bijou.
"As I came along, mademoiselle, I—I took the liberty of gathering these flowers for you."
She took them, and after inhaling their perfume for a minute or two, put them into her waistband.
"Thank you so much for having thought of me," she said.
He followed Bijou downstairs, step by step, happy in the present, forgetting all about his poverty, and as he appeared, tripping along behind the young girl, his violin-case in his hand, M. de Clagny turned to Jean de Blaye, and remarked:
"You were right; he has a nice face."
The mail-coach had just appeared in front of the steps when the marchioness called out:
"Bijou! I have a commission for you. Go to Pellerin the bookseller, and ask him—stop—no—send Pierrot here."
"Pierrot," said Denyse, returning to the hall, "grandmamma wants you."
"I'll bet it's some errand to do," remarked the youth, making a grimace, "and errands are not much in my line." And then, whilst Bijou and the others were clambering up on to the coach, he went back to Madame de Bracieux. "You wanted me, aunt?" he said.