"I don't care, I'm surprised that Jéricourt doesn't come; I told him that he would dine with my honorable neighbor."
"You should have announced a neighbor of the other gender," said Roncherolle; "that would have been more likely to attract the gentleman."
"Never mind! never mind! let's go on eating! He'll come for dessert and we'll give him some nuts and raisins," said Zizi.
But just as the soup was served, Jéricourt appeared; and he scowled slightly when he saw that they had not waited dinner for him.
"I say! come on, you miserable slow-coach!" cried Saint-Arthur; "don't you ever mean to be punctual?"
"What difference does it make—when you don't wait for me?" retorted Jéricourt, with a bare salute to the company.
"Wait for you!" cried Zizi; "on my word! I think not! Catch us having pains in the stomach for monsieur!"
"My friend," said Alfred, "let me present Monsieur de Roncherolle, my neighbor."
Jéricourt bent his head slightly, with a patronizing glance at Roncherolle, whose costume probably seemed to him far behind the fashion of the day. The old gentleman, observing the arrogant air with which the man of letters saluted him, made haste to say to Saint-Arthur:
"I beg pardon, my dear neighbor, but I did not ask you to present me to monsieur. Present him to me, if you please—that is all right; but that I should be presented to him—that I don't like."