"Are you expecting company?"
"No; but why shouldn't people come to see me? You came, whom I certainly did not expect."
"Listen—they're knocking again. It is certainly at your door."
"Come in!" cried Georgette; "the door isn't locked."
In fact, the young woman was always careful to leave the key in the lock outside when Dupont was with her, in order to give less occasion for gossip.
The door opened and a young man appeared and stopped on the threshold. He may have been about twenty years old, although he looked younger. His fresh, ingenuous face was exceedingly youthful; his great blue eyes, gentle and tender, had almost the charm of a woman's eyes; his chin was covered with an almost imperceptible down; his forehead was without a wrinkle, and his light chestnut hair grew naturally and at will, having never known the hand of a hairdresser. Take him for all in all, he was a very pretty fellow; of medium height, but slender and graceful.
His dress was neither that of a peasant nor that of a Parisian youth. He wore broadcloth trousers, almost skin-tight, with long leather gaiters reaching to the knee, a velvet waistcoat with metal buttons, and a rough, long-haired hunting jacket. Lastly, he held in his hand a felt hat, with a round crown and broad brim, and a stout knotted stick.
"Mamzelle Georgette, if you please?" said the young man, still standing in the doorway.
At the sound of that voice, the young woman sprang to her feet, crying:
"Colinet! it's Colinet!"