Denise’s only reply was to run ahead to tell her aunt, and Virginie said to her friend:
“For heaven’s sake, be careful what you say, and remember to behave decently. What with your Théodore, whom you lug into the conversation at every turn——”
“And you lothe yourthelf in your thentences and can’t find your way out of them!”
“No matter—long sentences are what you want with peasants; they don’t understand ‘em, but they think they’re fine.”
“Well, I’ll thay Théodore ith my huthband and that he’th in the army.”
As they talked, the ladies reached the farmyard, where the geese, ducks, dog and goat greeted them with a little impromptu concert.
“Oh! how I love the country!” cried Virginie, running forward to kiss Coco, while Cézarine did her utmost to keep her shawl out of the dog’s mouth. Meanwhile, Mère Fourcy came out to receive the travellers whom her niece had announced as fashionable ladies from Paris, of Monsieur Auguste’s acquaintance, and to whom the good woman conceived that she owed the greatest respect.
“This is my aunt, madame,” said Denise to Virginie; and the latter saluted the old woman with the patronizing air of a woman of fashion, saying:
“I am very glad to make the acquaintance of your venerable aunt. Dieu! what an antique cast of countenance! I am very fond of elderly people. Let me embrace you, madame.”
Having embraced Mère Fourcy, Virginie called Cézarine: