iculties; he was
anxious and it seemed likely that the bill which Labordette had put his
name to would not be met.

"Dear me, the countess is down yonder," said Georges, letting his gaze
wander over the stands.

"Where, where?" cried Nana. "What eyes that baby's got! Hold my
sunshade, Philippe."

But with a quick forward dart Georges had outstripped his brother.
It enchanted him to be holding the blue silk sunshade with its silver
fringe. Nana was scanning the scene through a huge pair of field
glasses.

"Ah yes! I see her," she said at length. "In the right-hand stand, near
a pillar, eh? She's in mauve, and her daughter in white by her side.
Dear me, there's Daguenet going to bow to them."

Thereupon Philippe talked of Daguenet's approaching marriage with
that lath of an Estelle. It was a settled matter--the banns were being
published. At first the countess had opposed it, but the count, they
said, had insisted. Nana smiled.

"I know, I know," she murmured. "So much the better for Paul. He's a
nice boy--he deserves it."

And leaning toward Louiset:

"You're enjoying yourself, eh? What a grave face!"

The child never smiled. With a very old expression he was gazing at all
those crowds, as though the sight of them filled him with melancholy
reflections. Bijou, chased from the skirts of the young woman who was
moving about a great deal, had come to nestle, shivering, against the
little fellow.

Meanwhile the field was filling up. Carriages, a compact, interminable
file of them, were continually arriving through the Porte de la Cascade.
There were big omnibuses such as the Pauline, which had started from the
Boulevard des Italiens, freighted with its fifty passengers, and was now
going to draw up to the right of the stands. Then there were dogcarts,
victorias, landaus, all superbly well turned out, mingled with
lamentable cabs which jolted along behind sorry old hacks, and
four-in-hands, sending along their four horses, and mail coaches, where
the masters sat on the seats above and left the servants to take care
of the hampers of champagne inside, and "spiders," the immense wheels of
which were a flash of glittering steel, and light tandems, which looked
as delicately formed as the works of a clock and slipped along amid a
peal of little bells. Every few seconds an equestrian rode by, and a
swarm of people on foot rushed in a scared way among the carriages. On
the green the far-off rolling sound which issued