She took out of her pocket a long list, which she began to read:
"Ice. Cakes. Fruit. Fish. The Dubuissons. Speak to the butcher. Pink gauze. Mère Rafut. Hat. Pierrot's books. Henry's cartridges (16)."
"What's that?" asked M. de Rueille, who was looking at the list. "Henry has commissioned you to get his cartridges instead of telling me to get them?"
"Yes; the time before last when he asked you, you forgot them; and last time you brought him number twelve cartridges, and his are number sixteen; therefore, he preferred—"
"Ah! I can understand that; but they do take advantage of you—and the children too have taken advantage. 'Balloon for Marcel, pencils for Robert;' Fred is the only one who has not given you any commissions. You need not despair though, he is only three years old; he will begin next year."
"He did not give me any commissions, but I have brought him a picture book—'Puss in Boots.' He adores cats, so that will amuse him."
"How delicious you are!"
"Delicious! Is that saying enough? Could you not find something rather more eulogistic? Let us see—try now!"
She was still glancing down the list; and Paul de Rueille pointed with the handle of his whip to a line written in pencil:
"What's that?—'Tell grandmamma about La Norinière!'"