“All right, Bertrand; I only said that for fun. But I’m not going to breakfast on honesty. What are you going to give me?”
“If mademoiselle would like coffee, I’ll go down and have some sent up.”
“Coffee! oh! that makes a hole in my stomach, it’s no good. Haven’t you got anything to eat here?”
“We have the remains of a pie, a bit of fowl, and some Lyon sausage.”
“Ah! I like those better than coffee; bring ‘em all, my little Bertrand; just to pass the time till Auguste comes back.”
Bertrand moved a small tea-table to the couch, and lost no time in laying it for Mademoiselle Virginie’s breakfast, who assisted him by going to the sideboard herself for whatever she needed, saying:
“I am sorry to put you to so much trouble, Bertrand.”
“You are joking, mademoiselle.”
“Where’s little Tony?”
“He’s with monsieur; he has to have somebody on account of the cabriolet.”