"Salut, Benoit; how goes it; how is the wife? and the father?—the children also? I hope you are well. Comment ça-va-t-il Cuiller?"—asked Chamilly.
Spoon took the proffered hand with his sleepy grin. Benoit responded by an obsequiously graceful shaking and deliberative loquacity:
"Well; well, Monsieur the Seigneur,—We are very well. The wife is well, the father, the children also. And how is Madame the Seigneuresse? and yourself? The crisis approaches, does it not? Eh bien, at that point you will find Jean Benoit strong enough. I have a good heart, Monseigneur. Once Xiste Brin said to me, 'Monsieur the Director, you have a good heart.' Deign to accept my professions, monseigneur, of a loyalty the most solemn, of a breast for ever faithful."
"I have always accepted your friendship, Benoit, and trusted you," smiled generous Haviland. "See here, Zotique, give Benoit a responsible post.—How different must be our feelings at this priceless service of personal affection from those of our opponents, served only for money."
"No money!" blurted Spoon. "Taurieu! An election without money?"
Chamilly, with one quiet glance, turned away to L'Honorable. "Without 'tin,'—St. Christophe, I say!—St. Laurent!"
"Keep quiet—silence, I pray thee," returned Benoit, and drew his companion aside.
"Why did Benoit call himself Director?" Chrysler asked.
Haviland and the Honorable smiled. Chamilly answered:
"It is a weakness of his ever since he was put on the Board of our Agricultural Society. Do not laugh, unless at the common vanity of mankind."