"Mesdames and messieurs, I have the honor to present a young man who was scampering upstairs, without stopping at his worthy father's door; but I seized him on the wing, saying: 'My dear boy, it is too late to go up to your room; the paternal arms await you and the soup must be served.'--Still, he wouldn't come, and you see now how he objects to coming in."
"What does this mean, my son?" inquired Monsieur Glumeau, after shaking the hand that Chambourdin offered him. "Why do you stand there at the door and not come in?"
"Excuse me, father--allow me to go up to my room a moment; I will come right down again; it is impossible for me to face our guests at this moment."
"What! impossible? why, you're facing them now."
"And I don't see that the boy is dressed like a wild Indian, either!" said Chambourdin, as he saluted the ladies.
"My dear good father, I assure you that I have something on that is--is not presentable."
"Mon Dieu! c--c--can it be that my b--b--brother has the same trouble as p--p--papa?" said tall Eolinde to herself; "does he want one t--t--too?"
Monsieur Glumeau, who had had the same thought as his daughter, dared say nothing more; but the bald youth, who was in the habit of playing jokes in company, and who was very unceremonious wherever he went, crept noiselessly behind the son of the house, and, giving him a sharp push, forced him to pitch forward into the salon; and in that movement Monsieur Astianax was obliged to remove his hands from his knees, thus disclosing the two rents; whereupon everybody uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"How does it happen, my son, that those trousers, which are almost new, are torn on both knees?"
"Well! now you know why I didn't want to come in--you see that I was right. Am I presentable like this?"
"It is I who am to blame for everything!" cried Chambourdin; "I forced him to disclose his disaster. Strictly, I ought to lend him some trousers, but as I believe he has another pair, I prefer that he should wear his own.--Go, hapless victim of a slippery sidewalk, but don't be long! something tells me that the soup is not far away."
Little Astianax disappeared, and Monsieur Glumeau would have been glad to do as much, but his guests surrounded him and talked to him; he was hemmed in on all sides.