“I assure you that a doctor, a friend of mine, tells me that the country air would do me no end of good.”
“Indeed, I believe that it can never injure anyone.”
“If I could find a small furnished apartment in this vicinity—a bachelor requires so little!”
“Oh! you can find that!” exclaimed Agathe; “it seems to me I have seen signs on the main street. It would be very nice to have you for a neighbor!”
“It is I, mademoiselle, whom it would make very happy.”
Honorine nudged her young friend with her knee, to urge her to be less expansive; whereupon Agathe made a funny little face and held her peace until some new outburst escaped her.
The girl was not as yet accustomed to society, and she said frankly just what she thought; which people are very careful not to do in society—and with good reason.
The music had delayed the dinner, and they were still talking around the table in the garden long after it had grown dark. Suddenly Poucette ran toward them with a terrified air, and said to the young man:
“Monsieur, your name’s Edmond Didier, isn’t it?”
“Yes—why?”