Vandeuvres, with his exquisite politeness toward the ladies next to
him, seemed to be at one of the Countess Muffat's receptions. That very
morning Nana had been remarking to her aunt that in the matter of
men one could not have done better--they were all either wellborn or
wealthy, in fact, quite the thing. And as to the ladies, they were
behaving admirably. Some of them, such as Blanche, Lea and Louise, had
come in low dresses, but Gaga's only was perhaps a little too low, the
more so because at her age she would have done well not to show her neck
at all. Now that the company were finally settled the laughter and the
light jests began to fail. Georges was under the impression that he
had assisted at merrier dinner parties among the good folks of Orleans.
There was scarcely any conversation. The men, not being mutually
acquainted, stared at one another, while the women sat quite quiet,
and it was this which especially surprised Georges. He thought them
all smugs--he had been under the impression that everybody would begin
kissing at once.

The third course, consisting of a Rhine carp a la Chambord and a saddle
of venison a l'anglaise, was being served when Blanche remarked aloud:

"Lucy, my dear, I met your Ollivier on Sunday. How he's grown!"

"Dear me, yes! He's eighteen," replied Lucy. "It doesn't make me feel
any younger. He went back to his school yesterday."

Her son Ollivier, whom she was wont to speak of with pride, was a pupil
at the Ecole de Marine. Then ensued a conversation about the young
people, during which all the ladies waxed very tender. Nana described
her own great happiness. Her baby, the little Louis, she said, was now
at the house of her aunt, who brought him round to her every morning at
eleven o'clock, when she would take him into her bed, where he played
with her griffon dog Lulu. It was enough to make one die of laughing to
see them both burying themselves under the clothes at the bottom of the
bed. The company had no idea how cunning Louiset had already become.

"Oh, yesterday I did just pass a day!" said Rose Mignon in her turn.
"Just imagine, I went to fetch Charles and Henry at their boarding
school, and I had positively to take them to the theater at night. They
jumped; they clapped their little hands: 'We shall see Mamma act! We
shall see Mamma act!' Oh, it was a to-do!"

Mignon smiled complaisantly, his eyes moist with paternal tenderness.

"And at the play itself," he continue