“I say, Denise,” cried Mère Fourcy; “I know why neighbor Mauflard came here to-day; didn’t we say at Claudine’s last night that we’d have the party here to-night?”
“Oh! dear, yes!” Denise replied dejectedly; “that was a very unfortunate idea of yours.”
“A village party!” said Cézarine, leaving the table; “oh! what fun that will be! I’ve often heard of them, but I never thaw one.”
“Nor I,” said Virginie; “and yet I’ve seen a great many things. I say! if we should pass the night here, we could attend the party. What do you say, cousin?”
“I thay that cabs won’t cotht any more to-morrow morning than to-night.”
“It isn’t a question of cabs. I know that we didn’t bring our own carriage, so as not to tire our horses; but we must find out whether it will inconvenience our venerable aunt to put us up to-night.”
“Oh! we’ve got room, madame.”
“It will be very kind of you to stay,” said Denise, hoping to have more talk of Auguste with Virginie.
“But the ladies will have to be satisfied with rather a hard bed.”
“We shall be very comfortable.”