"And what is this bunch of ribbons which you have on each shoulder?"
"That is a mark of dignity, monseigneur; it means that I am worthy to eat at your table with the noblest society. The pages used to wear them under King Dagobert."
"In that case you did very well to put them on.—But what is the matter with you, Monsieur Férulus? You look to me very pale this morning."
"Monseigneur, it is because—I had my bed warmed——"
"What! already?"
"The tower in which I lodge is very damp, monseigneur; however, it did not succeed so well as I hoped; I trust that breakfast will make me feel better. But they have just brought your servants’ livery; it is superb—dark green, with apricot trousers and orange trimmings."
"Yes, that is my idea; can you see it at a distance?"
"At a great distance, monseigneur. I must tell you, however, that that clown of an Olitor—I mean your gardener—refuses to wear it, on the pretext that it makes him look like a parrot."
"That rascal is always rebelling about something! François, go to him and order him in my name to put on his livery under penalty of being turned out of my garden."
Alfred and Edouard were also busying themselves with their toilet; although they did not, like the master of the house, propose to make conquests, the two young Parisians desired to appear to advantage before the large company which was to assemble at the château; and then too, one is never sorry to please, even when one has no desire to love.