Papa Bouchard remained chuckling to himself. He had those two naughty young creatures in the hollow of his hand—it would be a good while before they would dare to be saucy to him—and that little cottage in the suburbs was a fine idea. Strange it had not occurred to him before.
He seated himself in his easychair and began to review the events of his first day of liberty. His mind went back to the point where he had been interrupted by de Meneval’s entrance—the point where the dear little bashful widow had appeared in his mind’s eye. If he had been in the Rue Clarisse he would never even have dared to think of Madame Vernet, for his sister could actually read his thoughts. But here, in this jolly bachelor place, he could think about widows all he liked. And shutting his eyes the better to recall that slim, shrinking, gray-gowned figure, he opened them to see Madame Vernet quietly walking into the room, without knocking and quite as if she belonged there. She advanced to the table on one side of the room, laid her lace parasol on it and proceeded to remove her long gloves, but stopped in the midst of the process to rearrange a chair and to set straight a picture—one of Monsieur Bouchard’s.
“This is very comfortable,” she said, musingly, “but I can improve it—when I am settled here.”
Papa Bouchard listened as if in a dream. He had not progressed so far as that. And then Madame Vernet turning and seeing him, uttered a faint shriek, as if she had seen a snake instead of a human being, and ran—but not toward the door.
“My dear Madame Vernet, pray do not be alarmed. It is only I—Monsieur Bouchard,” cried Papa Bouchard, striving to reassure her.
“Oh! is it you? Forgive me for being so agitated, but I am so easily frightened!” panted Madame Vernet. “Men always frighten me—I am the most timid woman in the world!”
“So I see,” tenderly replied Papa Bouchard. He was standing quite close to Madame Vernet now, and she had clasped his arm and looked nervously about her, as if she expected another man to spring out of the fireplace or down from the ceiling.
“But when I saw it was only you, all my fears vanished,” she continued. “And will you tell me to what I am indebted for the honor and pleasure of this visit?”
“A question I was just asking myself. This is my new apartment.”
“I beg pardon,” replied Madame Vernet, “but it is my new apartment. I only moved into it to-day.”