"The next one?"
"Yes, the next one."
"Cousin Archibald invited me twice, too, and then he didn't come to get me; that was awfully mean of him. I told him I'd complain to you, and he said: 'Go and polk, and let me alone.' That was all the nastier of him, because he knows I can't polk."
Monsieur Guillardin—I knew now my snuff taker's name—opened his box and offered it to me; and paying no further heed to the little girl, who remained by his side, he said:
"One day, monsieur, when I had persisted longer than usual in trying to make Anna inhale a few grains, it occurred to her to blow into the box with all her might just as I handed it to her. You can imagine the result: the snuff filled my eyes—she had taken the precaution to close her own; I suffered horribly, and for two whole days I couldn't see. But after that, I ceased trying to give her snuff—Take a pinch."
I sacrificed myself a second time. I have no idea how I succeeded in inhaling it, but I know that my eyes smarted and that I felt strongly inclined to weep.
Mademoiselle Joliette, the inaptly named little girl, who had remained with us, roared with laughter.
"I should think monsieur was trying to be like you, uncle, when Cousin Anna blew into the snuffbox," she said.
"What! are you still here, Joliette? Go back to my daughter, for you are maid of honor, you know, and your station is beside the bride."
But Mademoiselle Joliette began to smile in a singular fashion, which raised her eyebrows—they were naturally too high—and gave to her face the effect of a mask. Her eyes were fixed upon me; she apparently had something to say, and dared not say it; my presence seemed to embarrass her. For my part, being by that time perfectly sure that the individual with the huge nose was the bride's father, I deeply regretted having addressed him, and I looked every minute in the direction of the orchestra, hoping to see the musicians take their instruments.