tell you--you are already in a bad temper. Besides,
I all but told her that we are not going.

Monsieur--(raising his hands aloft)--I thought so. She and her evening
may go to the dogs. What have I done to this woman that she should so
pester me?

Madame--But she thinks she is affording you pleasure. She is a charming
friend. As for me, I like her because she always speaks well of you. If
you had been hidden in that cabinet during her visit, you could not
have helped blushing. (He shrugs his shoulders.) "Your husband is so
amiable," she said to me, "so cheery, so witty. Try to bring him; it is
an honor to have him." I said, "Certainly," but without meaning it, you
know. But I don't care about it at all. It is not so very amusing at
Madame de Lyr's. She always invites such a number of serious people. No
doubt they are influential people, and may prove useful, but what does
that matter to me? Come to dinner. You know that there is a bottle left
of that famous Pomard; I have kept it for your partridge. You can not
imagine what pleasure I feel in seeing you eat a partridge. You eat
it with such a gusto. You are a glutton, my dear. (She takes his
arm.) Come, I can hear your rascal of a son getting impatient in the
dining-room.

Monsieur--(with a preoccupied air)--Hum! and when is it?

Madame--When is what?

Monsieur--The party, of course.

Madame--Ah! you mean the ball--I was not thinking of it. Madame de Lyr's
ball. Why do you ask me that, since we are not going? Let us make haste,
dinner is getting cold.... This evening.

Monsieur--(stopping short)--What! this party is a ball, and this ball is
for this evening. But, hang it! people don't invite you to a ball like
that. They always give notice some time beforehand.

Madame--But she sent us an invitation a week ago, though I don't know
what became of the card. I forgot to show it to you.

Monsieur--You forgot! you forgot!

Madame--Well, it is all for the best; I know you would have been sulky
all the week after. Come to dinner.

They sat down to table. The cloth was white, the cutlery bright, the
oysters fresh; the partridge, cooked to perfection, exhaled a delightful
odor. Madame was charming, and laughed at everything. Monsieur unbent
his brows and stretched himself on the chair.

Monsieur--This Pomard is very good. Won't you have some, little dear?

Madame--Yes, your little dear will. (She pushes forward her glass with a
coquettish movement.)

Monsieur-