“Yes, mademoiselle.”
Then she stooped over Henriette and said:
“Will you give me a kiss, my dear love?”
My daughter made a dignified curtsy, then allowed herself to be embraced. Mademoiselle next took Eugène in her arms and kissed him. I do not know why I took pleasure in watching her do it.
“So you live at Saint-Mandé? We learned that from your servant, whom we happened to meet.”
“Yes, monsieur, I am passing the summer here; I am staying with a friend who was kind enough, with his wife, to take charge of my children while I was travelling.”
“There is one thing that you don’t know, and that is that we have been neighbors of yours since yesterday.”
“What?”
“Yes, I mean it. We have hired a little house, all furnished, at Saint-Mandé and we have installed ourselves there for the rest of the summer. It was an idea that came into my niece’s head. After we met your servant, she said to me: ‘I am not feeling very well, uncle.’—It is true that she has been out of sorts ever since we returned from Mont-d’Or.”
“Dear me, uncle! all this has very little interest for monsieur. What is the use of giving him all these details?”