he Mayor's office at four o'clock, and
manage to meet Monsieur Gilet and invite him to dinner. If he makes
excuses, tell him it will give me pleasure; he is too polite to
refuse. And after dinner, at dessert, if he tells you about his
misfortunes, and the hulks and so forth--for you can easily get him to
talk about all that--then you can make him the offer to come and live
here. If he makes any objection, never mind, I shall know how to
settle it."

Walking slowly along the boulevard Baron, the old celibate reflected,
as much as he had the mind to reflect, over this incident. If he were
to part from Flore (the mere thought confused him) where could he find
another woman? Should he marry? At his age he should be married for
his money, and a legitimate wife would use him far more cruelly than
Flore. Besides, the thought of being deprived of her tenderness, even
if it were a mere pretence, caused him horrible anguish. He was
therefore as polite to Captain Gilet as he knew how to be. The
invitation was given, as Flore had requested, before witnesses, to
guard the hero's honor from all suspicion.

A reconciliation took place between Flore and her master; but from
that day forth Jean-Jacques noticed many a trifle that betokened a
total change in his mistress's affections. For two or three weeks
Flore Brazier complained to the tradespeople in the markets, and to
the women with whom she gossiped, about Monsieur Rouget's tyranny,
--how he had taken it into his head to invite his self-styled natural
brother to live with him. No one, however, was taken in by this
comedy; and Flore was looked upon as a wonderfully clever and artful
creature. Old Rouget really found himself very comfortable after Max
became the master of his house; for he thus gained a companion who
paid him many attentions, without, however, showing any servility.
Gilet talked, discussed politics, and sometimes went to walk with
Rouget. After Max was fairly installed, Flore did not choose to do the
cooking; she said it spoiled her hands. At the request of the grand
master of the Order of the Knights of Idleness, Mere Cognette produced
one of her relatives, an old maid whose master, a curate, had lately
died without leaving her anything,--an excellent cook, withal,--who
declared she would devote herself for life or death to Max and Flore.
In the name of the two powers, Mere Cognette promised her an annuity
of three hundred francs a year at the end of ten years, if