They had said of her when she was young: "What a dear little creature!"
She was now a shrivelled up old woman, very clean because of her early training, headstrong, spoiled, narrow-minded, fastidious, and easily irritated. Having become very devout, she seemed to have totally forgotten the adventures of her past.
He replied: "I find that two glasses do not make much of a show. If we could have champagne--it would not cost me more than three or four francs; we have the glasses already, and it would entirely change the aspect of the table."
Mlle Charlotte replied: "I do not see the use of going to that expense. But you are paying; it does not concern me."
He hesitated, seeking to convince himself:
"I assure you it would be much better. And then, with the cake it would make things more lively." This decided him. He took his hat and went downstairs, returning in five minutes with a bottle under his arm which bore on a large white label, ornamented with an enormous coat of arms, the words: "Grand vin mousseux de Champagne du Comte de Chatel-Rénovau."
Cachelin declared: "It cost only three francs, and the man says it is delicious."
He took the champagne glasses from the cupboard and placed them before each place.
The door at the right opened. His daughter entered. She was a tall girl with firm, rosy flesh--a handsome daughter of a strong race. She had chestnut hair and blue eyes. A simple gown outlined her round and supple figure; her voice was strong, almost the voice of a man, with those deep notes which make the nerves vibrate. She cried: "Heavens! Champagne! What luck!" clapping her hands like a child.
Her father said to her: "I wish you to be particularly nice to this gentleman; he has done such a lot for me."
She began to laugh--a sonorous laugh, which said: "I know."
The bell in the vestibule rang. The doors opened and closed and Lesable appeared.
He wore a black coat, a white cravat, and white gloves. He created a stir. Cachelin sprang forward, embarrassed and delighted: "But, my dear fellow, this is among ourselves. See me--I am in ordinary dress."
The young man replied: "I know, you told me so; but I never go out in the evening without my dress-coat." He saluted, his opera-hat under his arm, a flower in his buttonhole. César presented him: "My sister, Mlle Charlotte; my daughter Coralie, whom at home we call Cora."