e which was fraught with a sweet
and melancholy peacefulness.

"Oh, I'm expecting company," she continued. "We shall be gayer then! The
first to come will be two gentlemen whom Georges has invited--Monsieur
Fauchery and Monsieur Daguenet; you know them, do you not? Then we shall
have Monsieur de Vandeuvres, who has promised me a visit these five
years past. This time, perhaps, he'll make up his mind!"

"Oh, well and good!" said the countess, laughing. "If we only can get
Monsieur de Vandeuvres! But he's too much engaged."

"And Philippe?" queried Muffat.

"Philippe has asked for a furlough," replied the old lady, "but without
doubt you won't be at Les Fondettes any longer when he arrives."

The coffee was served. Paris was now the subject of conversation, and
Steiner's name was mentioned, at which Mme Hugon gave a little cry.

"Let me see," she said; "Monsieur Steiner is that stout man I met
at your house one evening. He's a banker, is he not? Now there's a
detestable man for you! Why, he's gone and bought an actress an estate
about a league from here, over Gumieres way, beyond the Choue. The whole
countryside's scandalized. Did you know about that, my friend?"

"I knew nothing about it," replied Muffat. "Ah, then, Steiner's bought a
country place in the neighborhood!"

Hearing his mother broach the subject, Georges looked into his coffee
cup, but in his astonishment at the count's answer he glanced up at him
and stared. Why was he lying so glibly? The count, on his side, noticed
the young fellow's movement and gave him a suspicious glance. Mme Hugon
continued to go into details: the country place was called La Mignotte.
In order to get there one had to go up the bank of the Choue as far as
Gumieres in order to cross the bridge; otherwise one got one's feet wet
and ran the risk of a ducking.

"And what is the actress's name?" asked the countess.

"Oh, I wasn't told," murmured the old lady. "Georges, you were there the
morning the gardener spoke to us about it."

Georges appeared to rack his brains. Muffat waited, twirling a teaspoon
between his fingers. Then the countess addressed her husband:

"Isn't Monsieur Steiner with that singer at the Varietes, that Nana?"

"Nana, that's the name! A horrible woman!" cried Mme Hugon with growing
annoyance. "And they are expecting her at La Mignotte. I've heard all
about it from the gardener. Didn't the gardener say they were expecting
her this evening, Georges?"

T