Mauprat
would eat them for his breakfast; he's a regular ogre. But where does the hulking dog spring from? I suppose M. le Chevalier brought him here from behind some plough. What is his name again? . . . You did tell me his name, didn't you?"
"Yes, inquisitive; I told you he is called Bernard."
"Bernard! And nothing else?"
"Nothing, for the present. What are you looking at?"
"He is sleeping like a dormouse. Look at the booby. I was wondering whether he resembled M. le Chevalier. Perhaps it was a momentary error—a fit of forgetfulness with some milk-maid."
"Come, come, Leblanc; you are going too far . . ."
"Goodness gracious, mademoiselle, has not M. le Chevalier been young like any other man? And that does not prevent virtue coming on with years, does it?"
"Doubtless your own experience has shown you that this is possible. But listen: don't take upon yourself to make fun of this young man. It is possible that you have guessed right; but my father requires him to be treated as one of the family."
"Well, well; that must be pleasant for you, mademoiselle. As for myself, what does it matter to me? I have nothing to do with the gentleman."
"Ah, if you were thirty years younger."
"But did your father consult you, mademoiselle, before planting yon great brigand in your room?"
"Why ask such a question? Is there anywhere in the world a better father than mine?"
"But you are very good also. . . . There are many young ladies who would have been by no means pleased."
"And why, I should like to know? There is nothing
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