"Has the lady a husband?"
"Oh, yes! a little bit of a man. When he's alongside of his wife, you can't see him, because Madame Droguet's a splendid woman; she's a good five feet five, and strong in proportion; what you might call a fine woman!"
"Isn't she supposed to have been a vivandière formerly?"
"Oh! there's another one of the doctor's tales. You know, they say a lot of things like that in the country,—because Madame Droguet's a little quick, and when she first came here to live she used to give her servants a slap now and then; and they never failed to say that she boxed her husband's ears too, and kicked him in the rump, saving your presence, when he undertook to oppose her wishes; but that's all fiddle-faddle!—People saw that she was the mistress in her own house, that nothing was done there except by her orders, so they said: 'She must have been a vivandière, she leads her husband about to the beat of the drum.'—This much is certain, that she's the one that runs the house and says what's to be done and undone, built and pulled down; the husband don't meddle in anything. That's why you hear people say 'Madame Droguet,' and never 'Monsieur Droguet!' But that just suits him; he seems to be satisfied so long as he can dance."
"Ah! so Monsieur Droguet is fond of dancing? How old is he, pray?"
"I guess he's close on to fifty-five; and his wife, too—she must be as old as he is, at least."
"Then she gives balls so that her husband may dance?"
"I don't know whether she gives balls, but she gives dinner-parties and she has lots of company. It seems that they live pretty well there. But she's sure to invite you; she invites all the swell people in the neighborhood."
"I don't know whether she will invite us," said Honorine with a smile; "but it would be a waste of time; for we do not dine out."
"Oh, well! if that's your idea, it's all right. If she invited me, I'd go; but I ain't enough of a bigwig."