“Will not the happiness you have restored to us tempt you to remain with us? We should be so glad to share it with you!”
“Madame, dear, good friends,” stammered the guest.... “O George! you have caught me in the very snare I spread for you.”
He sank into a chair, overcome by his emotion, while George and Reine stood by him, clasping his hands in theirs. “Oh!” sighed he at last, “it is too sweet a dream for such a forlorn wretch as I am.”
“He will stay with us!” exclaimed Mme. Dupuis joyfully.
“And I will go and make his bed in the best blue chamber,” cried Marianne, wiping her eyes with her apron. The poor girl had been standing quietly near the door, an involuntary listener, during almost the whole of Rouvière’s confession.
“What! the deuce! Marianne!” growled Rouvière, rising hastily from his seat.
“I’m going to make your bed, sir!” cried Marianne, in great good-humor.
“Very well, then; but don’t let the head be lower than the heels, my good creature, as you house-maids generally manage it. Slope it down gently from head to foot, mind you, and....” He stopped a moment, then smilingly resumed: “Make it as you will, Marianne; I’m sure it will be first-rate. You see,” he added, turning toward his hosts when Marianne had left the room, “how this disgusting egotism crops up incessantly; ... you must try to cure me of it. Oh! what a rest I’m going to have now,” he exclaimed as he threw himself on the sofa.... “Madame, dear madame, will you do me a favor? I know what the pains of exile are by sad experience—pray, let the cat come in!”