“‘All right, take this little one and go.’
“‘But, monsieur,’ I says, ‘what about the layette; where’s the little one’s layette?’
“At that, the handsome gentleman looks at his swell servant as if he was surprised, and says:
“‘What’s this woman talking about? What’s a layette?’
“The servant who was better instructed than his master, says:
“‘Monsieur, it is the child’s trousseau, the little things that people give to dress it in.’
“‘Oh! the devil! I didn’t know that myself, and it seems she didn’t think of it either! Never mind, Comtois, give her some of my trousers and waistcoats, give her my old dressing-gown and some linen; the nurse can make them over and we’ll send her something else later. Make haste, Comtois. Here, put in this handkerchief too, which belongs to the child’s mother, and which I put in my pocket by mistake yesterday.’
“The servant made me up a bundle in a hurry; and a queer layette it was, I tell you! I don’t believe that any young one ever had one like it; it consisted of a woolen dressing-gown lined with silk, three pairs of broadcloth trousers, six cravats, two white piqué waistcoats and one black satin one, six fine shirts, a pair of suspenders, and a white handkerchief embroidered with a cipher, with a coronet on it. As for the handkerchief, I still have that, I have kept it so that the child might have something that belonged to her parents. However, all that stuff was better than nothing; I took the bundle and they were already turning me out of the room with my nursling, when I remembered that I didn’t know anybody’s name.
“‘Well, monsieur, what’s the little one’s name, and yours, and your wife’s?’
“At that the gentleman made a funny kind of face; he hesitated a long while, as if he was trying to think what answer he could make, and finally he said: