At nine o'clock the following morning, Frontin carried to Georgette's apartment a terrine de foie gras, a small Reims ham, cakes, some superb fruit, bordeaux, madeira, and champagne. The valet, remembering the tone in which the shirtmaker had spoken to him, was as polite to her now as he had formerly been impertinent.

Georgette received all these supplies with no indication of surprise, whereas Colinet, who had already arrived at his compatriot's rooms, opened his eyes in amazement and exclaimed:

"What! are we going to eat all that? Why, what a feast, Mamzelle Georgette! what a feast! That gentleman must be head over heels in love with you to send you so many good things!"

"Do you think that that proves his love, Colinet?"

"Well! it must prove something, anyway!"

"Yes, it proves that he would like to seduce me; for there are women who allow themselves to be seduced through their appetite."

"Oh, yes! there are lots of 'em. Why, at home, there's Manette, who went into the woods with Blaise for a plum tart! But you ain't one of that kind, Georgette!"

"Not I! I will eat all these things, and my neighbor won't be any further ahead. You won't forget to give my sisters the letters I gave you, will you, Colinet?"

"I should think not! Do I ever forget anything you tell me? Especially as Suzanne and AimÉe are always terribly impatient to get your letters."

"I can believe it. Poor sisters!"

"Have you told them that you're coming home soon?"

"Not yet, my friend, not yet."

"Are you going to stay in Paris much longer?"

"Mon Dieu! I haven't any idea."

"And your mother, dear Maman Granery! Oh! she longs so for you!"

"My mother! Oh! Colinet, please tell her that I love her as dearly as ever, that she will never have to blush for me, and that I—— But, hush! I hear Monsieur de Mardeille."

The neighbor from the first floor entered the room, all smiles and amiability and merriment. He presented his respects to Georgette and slapped Colinet familiarly on the shoulder.

"Really, monsieur, you are very kind to us," said Georgette; "you have sent us so many things! My poor little pie won't dare to appear beside your gifts!"

"You are jesting, my dear neighbor! We will punish your pie with the rest—eh, Monsieur Colinet?"

"Yes, monsieur, I ask nothing better."

"In that case, messieurs, let us begin."

They took their seats at a table which was not elegantly furnished, but was exquisitely neat. Flowers took the place of the wonderful surtouts which adorn the tables of the wealthy; and women have the art of arranging flowers with so much taste, that they always achieve lovely decorative effects with them. And then, too, Georgette did the honors of the table without embarrassment or awkwardness; and lastly, she still wore her little silk petticoat and her jacket, which made her altogether fascinating.

"You will excuse me, monsieur, for not dressing for the occasion," she said to her neighbor; "but I am more comfortable this way; and then I should have been afraid of spoiling my beautiful gown."

"You are enchanting in this costume, my little neighbor; I should have been terribly distressed if you had made your toilet.—Don't you agree with me, Monsieur Colinet? don't you think that Mademoiselle Georgette is very seductive in this charming nÉgligÉ?"

Colinet was busy eating; however, he replied, shaking his head:

"I am used to seeing mamzelle like this! At home, we never dress up, except for the church festivals."

"Where is your home, Monsieur Colinet?"

The young man glanced at Georgette, who guessed that he had forgotten the name she had told him; so she replied for him:

"Belair, monsieur."

"Belair! I don't know of any town of that name in Normandie."

"It isn't a town; it's a village."

"Oh! if it's only a village, that makes a difference. Drink, Monsieur Colinet. Are you fond of wine?"

"Yes, monsieur; especially when it's as good as this."

"And then, you don't drink much of anything but cider in your province, I suppose?"

"Cider?"—And Colinet looked surprised; but Georgette kicked him, under the table, saying:

"Why, yes! cider, of course. Cider is much more common at home—in Normandie—than wine. So I advise you not to drink too much of this, Colinet, for it would soon make you tipsy!"

"Oh! no, you need have no fear," rejoined Monsieur de Mardeille; "natural wines never do any harm."

"Well! that's his business. But if you make him tipsy, he won't be able to start for home to-day."

This suggestion from Georgette checked the ex-dandy, who was about to fill the young man's glass, but reflected that it would be very foolish to prevent the old playfellow from going away from Paris.

The breakfast lasted a long while; Colinet succeeded in retaining his reason, while doing honor to the neighbor's wines. Georgette was careful to change the subject when Monsieur de Mardeille mentioned Normandie. When the clock struck one, the latter rose and said:

"I must go to the Bourse."

"And I," said Colinet, "must think about starting for home."

"A pleasant journey, Monsieur Colinet! We shall meet again, I hope."

"Oh, yes!" said Georgette; "you will certainly see him again."

When Monsieur de Mardeille had gone, Colinet said, with a sigh:

"He's luckier than I am, that man is; for he stays with you, and I am going to leave you again!"

"No, Colinet, he isn't luckier than you, for I love you, and I shall never have either love or friendship for that man."

"Ah! if that's so, you're right, I am luckier than he is! His breakfast was mighty good! But, for all that, I'd rather have nothing but potatoes, with nobody but you!"

"So would I, my friend."

"Then you ought not to have invited him!"

"Are you going to begin your questions again, Colinet?"

"Oh! no, no! forgive me; I'm done."

"Then kiss me and go; and kiss my father and mother and sisters for me."

"Oh! never you fear; I won't fail."

Colinet kissed Georgette and went away, weeping as bitterly as on the previous occasion.