ana laughed good-humoredly at his chaffing her about her voice! He
was a nice fellow, was that Fauchery, and she would repay him for his
charming style of writing. Mme Lerat, after having reread the notice,
roundly declared that the men all had the devil in their shanks, and she
refused to explain her self further, being fully satisfied with a brisk
allusion of which she alone knew the meaning. Francis finished turning
up and fastening Nana's hair. He bowed and said:

"I'll keep my eye on the evening papers. At half-past five as usual,
eh?"

"Bring me a pot of pomade and a pound of burnt almonds from Boissier's,"
Nana cried to him across the drawing room just as he was shutting the
door after him.

Then the two women, once more alone, recollected that they had not
embraced, and they planted big kisses on each other's cheeks. The notice
warmed their hearts. Nana, who up till now had been half asleep, was
again seized with the fever of her triumph. Dear, dear, 'twas Rose
Mignon that would be spending a pleasant morning! Her aunt having been
unwilling to go to the theater because, as she averred, sudden emotions
ruined her stomach, Nana set herself to describe the events of the
evening and grew intoxicated at her own recital, as though all Paris had
been shaken to the ground by the applause. Then suddenly interrupting
herself, she asked with a laugh if one would ever have imagined it all
when she used to go traipsing about the Rue de la Goutte-d'Or. Mme Lerat
shook her head. No, no, one never could have foreseen it! And she began
talking in her turn, assuming a serious air as she did so and calling
Nana "daughter." Wasn't she a second mother to her since the first had
gone to rejoin Papa and Grandmamma? Nana was greatly softened and on the
verge of tears. But Mme Lerat declared that the past was the past--oh
yes, to be sure, a dirty past with things in it which it was as well not
to stir up every day. She had left off seeing her niece for a long time
because among the family she was accused of ruining herself along with
the little thing. Good God, as though that were possible! She didn't ask
for confidences; she believed that Nana had always lived decently, and
now it was enough for her to have found her again in a fine position and
to observe her kind feelings toward her son. Virtue and hard work were
still the only things worth anything in this world.

"Who is the baby's father?" she said, interrupting herself, her ey