On seeing him move towards the door, Bijou left the marchioness, and rushed across to him:
"Oh, no! you are not going away! Grandmamma, tell him that he is not to leave us like this!"
"Come now, Jean," said the marchioness, half joking and half scolding, "don't plague them so!"
The young man sat down again in despair.
"And this is the country!" he exclaimed, "this is rest and holiday! I have to work like a nigger, writing plays—plays with couplets—and then go to bed regularly at two in the morning, and this is what is called being in clover!"
Pierrot had listened to this outburst with apparent solemnity.
"Continue, old man," he said jeeringly, "you interest me!"
Bijou laughed, and Jean, looking annoyed, turned towards Pierrot, and said sarcastically, "You are very witty, my dear boy!"
"Children, you are perfectly insufferable!" exclaimed Madame de Bracieux, raising her voice. She was looking at them in surprise, wondering what wind had suddenly risen to bring about this storm. She could not account for all these disagreeable little speeches, and the hostile attitude they had taken up, and which was quite a new thing to the old lady. Once again she called Bijou to her. The young girl was standing looking round at everyone with a questioning expression in her soft eyes.
"Do you know what's the matter with them?" asked the marchioness.