ish impatience, and as soon as
he heard signs of life below, the blinds thrown back against the
house-front, he hurried down to tell his friends the good news. And now
they are all together, the young ladies in modest _deshabille_, their
hair hastily braided, and M. Joyeuse, whom the announcement had
surprised in the act of shaving, presenting an astonishing bipartite
face beneath his embroidered night-cap, with one side shaved, the other
not. But the most excited of all is Andre Maranne, for you know what the
acceptance of _Revolte_ meant to him, what agreement Grandmamma had made
with him. The poor fellow looks at her as if seeking encouragement in
her eyes; and those eyes, kindly as always, and with a slight suggestion
of raillery, seem to say to him: "Try, at all events. What do you risk?"
He also glances, in order to give himself courage, at Mademoiselle
Elise, pretty as a flower, her long lashes lowered. At last, making a
bold effort, he says, in a choking voice:

"Monsieur Joyeuse, I have a very serious communication to make to you."

M. Joyeuse is surprised.

"A communication? _Mon Dieu!_ you terrify me."

And he too lowers his voice as he adds:

"Are these young ladies in the way?"

No. Grandmamma knows what is going on. Mademoiselle Elise, too, must
have a suspicion. That leaves only the children. Mademoiselle Henriette
and her sister are requested to retire, which they do at once, the
former with a majestic, annoyed air, like a worthy descendant of the
Saint-Amands, the other, the little monkey Yaia, with a wild desire to
laugh, dissembled with difficulty.

Profound silence ensues. Then the lover begins his little story.

I should say that Mademoiselle Elise does in very truth suspect
something, for as soon as their young neighbor spoke of a
"communication," she had taken her _Ansart et Rendu_ from her pocket and
plunged madly into the adventures of a certain Le Hutin, an exciting
passage which made the book tremble in her fingers. Surely there is
cause for trembling in the dismay, the indignant amazement with which M.
Joyeuse welcomes this request for his daughter's hand.

"Is it possible? How did this come about? What an extraordinary thing!
Whoever would have suspected anything of the sort!"

And suddenly the good man bursts into a roar of laughter. Well, no, that
is not true. He has known what was going on for a long while; some one
told him the whole story.

Father knows the whole story! The