“Carriage here, carriage there, indeed! my spiteful relations wouldn’t lose the chance of calling me a spendthrift.”
“I have an important message to send into your quarter,” said Brigitte, seeing she must resolve to make the sacrifice, “and I have just told my porter to take a cab and attend to it. If you would like to take advantage of that convenience—”
“I accept it, madame,” said the old professor, rising; “and, if it comes to the worst, I hope you will testify before the judge that I was niggardly about a cab.”
“Henri,” said Brigitte to the man-servant, “take monsieur down to the porter and tell him to do the errand I told him about just now, and to take monsieur to his own door, and be very careful of him.”
“Careful of him!” echoed the old man. “Do you take me for a trunk, madame, or a bit of cracked china?”
Seeing that she had got her man fairly to the door, Brigitte allowed herself to turn upon him.
“What I say, monsieur, is for your good. You must allow me to observe that you have not an agreeable nature.”
“Careful of him! careful of him!” repeated the old man. “Don’t you know, madame, that by the use of such words you may get people put into lunatic asylums? However, I will not reply rudely to the polite hospitality I have received,—all the more because, I think, I have put Monsieur Felix, who missed me intentionally, in his right place.”
“Go, go, go, you old brute!” cried Brigitte, slamming the door behind him.
Before returning to the salon she was obliged to drink a whole glassful of water, the restraint she had been forced to put upon herself in order to get rid of this troublesome guest having, to use her own expression, “put her all about.”