“Well! does neither of you propose to assist madame?” Thélénie asked them.
“It seems to me,” muttered Chamoureau, “that it isn’t for me to go fumbling in that lady’s corsets; that’s her husband’s business.”
Madame Droguet, seeing that no one came to her assistance, concluded to put her right hand inside her dress. She brought to light a small goldfish which its enforced sojourn in a warm pocket had deprived of a great part of its activity.
“A goldfish!” murmured Madame Droguet in amazement. “What! monsieur,” she added, somewhat reassured when she found that it was not a frog which she had been warming in her bosom, “do you carry goldfish in your handkerchief?”
Chamoureau, as the explanation of the incident began to dawn upon him, turned as red as his fish, and did not know what to say. But Thélénie at once spoke up and told the story of the accident which had happened to her husband, and which explained the presence of an inhabitant of the pond in his coat pocket, unsuspected by him. Thereupon they ended by laughing at the episode, and to obtain full forgiveness for the fish, Thélénie invited the Droguet family to dinner on the Thursday following.
The invitation was accepted with profuse thanks and compliments, and Monsieur and Madame de Belleville took their leave; the Droguets escorted them to their calèche, and they parted well pleased with one another.
“Please examine your pockets, monsieur,” said Thélénie, “and make sure that there are no more goldfish in them, for I have no desire that you should throw any more of them in the faces of the people we are going to call upon.”
“I have no more in my pockets, madame.”
“I am not surprised that you have such a horrible smell of fish about you; why didn’t you change your coat?”
“Because I haven’t any other black one that fits me, madame.”