One evening, Madeleine, looking him straight in the eyes said: “You have not yet announced our intentions to Madame de Marelle?”
“No, dear, having promised you to be secret, I have not opened my mouth to a living soul.”
“Well, it is about time to tell her. I will undertake to inform the Walters. You will do so this week, will you not?”
He blushed as he said: “Yes, tomorrow.”
She had turned away her eyes in order not to notice his confusion, and said: “If you like we will be married in the beginning of May. That will be a very good time.”
“I obey you in all things with joy.”
“The tenth of May, which is a Saturday, will suit me very nicely, for it is my birthday.”
“Very well, the tenth of May.”
“Your parents live near Rouen, do they not? You have told me so, at least.”
“Yes, near Rouen, at Canteleu.”
“What are they?”
“They are—they are small annuitants.”
“Ah! I should very much like to know them.”
He hesitated, greatly perplexed, and said: “But, you see, they are—” Then making up his mind, like a really clever man, he went on: “My dear, they are mere country folk, innkeepers, who have pinched