Goth announced dinner, whereupon Monsieur Miflorès exclaimed:
"Good enough!"
"It would seem that the count is hungry!" muttered Monsieur Mirotaine.
"I agree with him perfectly," said Monsieur Brid'oison.
Dodichet nudged his friend, to signify that he must offer his arm to the hostess. Meanwhile, he offered his own to Juliette, and on the way to the dining-room found time to say a few words in her ear which caused her face to glow with happiness.
They took their seats. Madame Trichon grumbled and made a wry face when she found herself beside little Artaban. Monsieur Brid'oison, offended because she dreaded his son's proximity, insisted that her seat should be changed; but Aldegonde objected, and Madame Trichon held her peace. The soup was served. While it was being passed to her guests, Aldegonde happened to glance at the dishes of hors-d'œuvre, and called to her servant:
"Goth, didn't you put on the table all the pickles and pickled onions I gave you?"
"Why, yes, madame, every one."
"Well, I certainly had many more than that; it's very strange!"
"Does madame think I ate any of 'em? Madame knows very well that I never take anything—especially as everything's kept locked up in this house!"