“.... Il sert contré lé Russe;
Mais il sert tout dé bon. Ah! lé feu roi dé Prusse,
Savait l’apprécier; et lé grand Frédéric,
En fait d’opinion, valait tout un public.
Il admirait mon fils—J’en ai——”
Monsieur Roquencourt was interrupted in his declamation by the cook, who rushed into the room, exclaiming:
“Mon Dieu! what on earth is this dog that’s just come here, mademoiselle? He came into my kitchen and jumped at everything there is there; he ate at one gulp the remains of the chicken that was on the table, and he’s just carried off the leg of mutton that was for your dinner.”
“Oh! it’s because he’s thirsty!” cried Giraud; “give him some water; he was very hot, give him some water, if you please, and then he will fawn all over you.”
“Monsieur,” said Caroline, rising and walking forward, with a very decided air, toward Giraud, “I am very sorry, but you really must give your dog water somewhere else; my uncle should remember that we have to go out this morning, we have very little time, and we cannot have the pleasure of detaining you any longer.”
As she said this, Caroline gave her uncle a glance which he understood very clearly, and he faltered:
“Yes—yes, I believe that we have to go out.”
Giraud seemed thunderstruck; he looked at his wife, who looked at Monsieur Mouillé, who looked at his trousers to see if they were creased.
However, the family rose; the dandified young man followed their example, and Giraud bowed low, saying:
“As you have an engagement, of course we do not desire to detain you; another time I trust that we shall be more fortunate, and that we may form a connection of which the fortunate result—Monsieur Mouillé, present your respects to mademoiselle. Bow, children.—Monsieur Roquencourt, we shall not forget your great amiability.—Azor! here, Azor! Azor! Oh! he will certainly come.—Au revoir, my dear Blémont.”