“Yes, very amusing,” rejoined La Thomassinière. And Auguste reflected that the name was well deserved.
“She’s not a bad-looking girl,” said one of the young men.
“Oh! what can you see that’s attractive in that creature?” cried Athalie; “she’s heavy and awkward and vulgar.”
“Mon Dieu! she’s a huge mass of flesh that moves, and that’s all,” said the marquis.
“Yes, yes,” assented La Thomassinière, blushing slightly, “she moves, she moves, and, as monsieur le marquis says, she knows how to do nothing else.”
“What are you laughing at, Monsieur Dalville?” Athalie asked Auguste; “at Mademoiselle Tapotte? You have said nothing about her.”
“I’ll bet that monsieur agrees with me,” said the marquis, “and that he sees nothing about her that deserves to be looked at a second time.”
“He!” rejoined Athalie; “oh! you don’t know him, monsieur; he detects charms under round caps and calico dresses.”
“I don’t deny it, madame, and I do not think that it is necessary to wear fine clothes in order to be beautiful. As for your gardener, certainly she has neither pretty features nor a pretty figure; but, for all that, her freshness and bloom, her good-natured appearance——”
“Fie, fie, monsieur! fie! hold your tongue! for you are quite capable of perverting these gentlemen. But we have devoted quite enough time to Mademoiselle Tapotte; I hope that monsieur le marquis will do me the honor to come and look at my garden; and if he could be induced to give us this day——”