"_La!_ Now eat, Colibris, and tell me more. How is Louis? And
Henriette?"

"All well, all well," returned her brother-in-law, who was apparently
full of the quality, the name of which is so often abused by English
people, _joie-de-vivre_. "Henriette has new upper teeth, and looks ten
years younger. Louis is as usual very silent, but otherwise is well. I
am curious to see Victor. It was a misfortune, my being away when he was
here last. He must have been greatly disappointed. He has always been
very fond of me, you will remember. Even as boys, we had much in
common."

Madame Chalumeau's eyes twinkled as she nodded. Colibris' harmless
vanity always amused her.

"Yes, yes, I know. He inquired very particularly for you. A great man,
Victor."

"Yes, yes. I remember once when we were boys a man came who felt the
skull and read the character. He said to Victor, 'You have great talent,
my little one,' and to me he said, 'You are going to be a very great
man, Colibris.' But I did not care to develop my talents. I was always
very modest and domestic. The cure at home always says, 'Now, Jacques
Colibris--_there's_ a man who is a model husband and father.'" He drank
a deep draught of cider.

"They arrive to-morrow," interpolated Madame Chalumeau hastily, with a
hunted expression, "Victor and Felicite and Theodore. Also Theo's
_fiancee_, an English girl. I have a letter from Victor--I will read it
to you."

Taking the letter from her pocket, and ruthlessly interrupting his
remarks on the English as viewed by himself, she began to read:

"My dear Sister--On Tuesday we shall arrive, I, my wife, our
boy, and his _fiancee_, Lady Brigit Mead. She is a very beautiful and
charming young lady, and I am sure you will all admire her. Felicite,
who is very wise, fears that she, Lady Brigit, may not care for Falaise,
for she is, my dear sister, the daughter of a Count. But I, who am even
wiser, know that she will. Dear Falaise, to me always the most beautiful
town in the world, who could help loving thee? Now, my good Bathilde, I
wish you to go to Berton of the Chevreuil d'Or and engage rooms for Lady
Brigit. Two rooms, one without a bed, for a _salon_. Tell him they must
be very nice, and you, I know, will see that they are clean. We, of
course, will lodge in the Rue Victor Hugo with the old people. My
affectionate salutations to you all, my dear sister, from your devoted
brother,
"