Hotel de Noailles? All right, so do I. So answer Hotel de
Noailles. My despatch is very good. You will see. As good as the
other--better, even. I've the knack of telegrams to-day. Yes, it's very
good."

He wrote and wrote; he was inspired, he was animated; he made a few more
mistakes than usual in spelling, that was all--it was emotion. He reread
his despatch with complaisance, he made Maurice read it, who could not
help thinking the incident funny. Raoul counted the words of his
despatch--there were about a hundred and fifty--and calling the waiter
of the dining-car, he said, "Send this telegram off for me at Dijon.
Here are ten francs; there will be two or three over for you."

Then turning at once to Maurice he asked, "Is that enough?"

"Why certainly."

"Well, for such a marriage--ah, my dear fellow, you sail to-morrow at
what time?"

"At two o'clock."

"Oh, we have plenty of time, then; all will be settled by two o'clock."

"Oh, settled; you're crazy!"

"Not at all; it's already very far advanced, since it's papa's Number
Three. I only ask one thing of you: present me to the mother shortly.
After that let me alone. I'll manage everything; only, at any cost, we
must leave our car and find two arm-chairs in the same car, and near my
mother-in-law."

"Your mother-in-law!"

"That's what I said; my mother-in-law. Once the two arm-chairs are
procured, I am master of the situation. You don't know me. I already
know what I shall say to the mother, what I shall say to my young
brother-in-law (he is very nice), and what I shall say to my future
bride. I shall have made a conquest of all of them before we reach
Lyons. Lyons? No; that's going a little fast--say Valence or Montelimar.
Pass me the time-table again. Let us settle everything, and leave
nothing to chance. Oh, look at her! She has nibbled nuts for the last
fifteen minutes, and how she cracks them--crack! one little bite--and
what pretty little teeth! She is very pretty even while eating--an
important thing. It's very rare to find women who remain pretty while
eating and sleeping, very rare. Little Adelaide, the red-headed one, you
remember, ate stupidly. And this one over there eats brightly; she
eats--crack! another nut--and she looks at me on the sly. I can see that
she looks at me. All goes well, all goes well!"

In truth, all did go well. At Montbard, 12.32, Raoul was presented to
Mme. Derame, who, on hearing the name of Chamblard, had a little
sh