Ballangier smiled, then glanced furtively at Mignonne. We talked for some time; then he rose, saying that he must hurry, because his employer was waiting for him. I walked into the reception room with him, and there, after bidding me adieu, Ballangier murmured:
"She's mighty pretty, that little woman sewing in there!"
"Yes, she is pretty; and, what's better still, she's respectable."
"Ah, yes! Is she a lady?"
"I'll tell you another time who she is."
When Ballangier had gone, I returned to Mignonne, who went on with her work and said nothing. Still, I would have bet that she was surprised to hear me, a young man of fashion, addressed thus familiarly by a man in cap and blouse.
Pomponne handed me a huge envelope which the concierge had just brought upstairs. The enclosure was printed; evidently a wedding invitation. I read:
"Mesdames Falourdin, Riflot, Piquette, Dumarteau, Lumignon, Chamouillet, and Cavalos have the honor to announce the marriage of their niece, Mademoiselle Rosette Gribiche, to Monsieur Jules-César-Octave Freluchon, dealer in sponges."
Ah! it was very amiable on Rosette's part to send me an announcement of her wedding. But something was written at the foot of the sheet:
"You are requested to attend the ball, which will take place at Chapart's, Rue d'Angoulême; I rely on you for the polka."