Volume Ii Part 38 (1/2)
”I agree with mademoiselle,” said Edmond. A moment later, he added: ”It's a very dismal thing to call one's fiancee 'mademoiselle.' Don't you think so, madame?”
Honorine smiled, while Agathe hastily rejoined:
”And I think it's horrible to say 'monsieur'!--It's so ceremonious, monsieur!”
”Well! what prevents you from calling each other Agathe and Edmond simply?”
”Oh! madame! have we your permission?”
”I see no harm in it, when you are engaged.”
”Oh! what joy, my dear good friend! How sweet it will be, Edmond!--Do you hear, Monsieur Edmond?”
”No more 'monsieur,' dear Agathe!”
”True; but one dares not begin all at once. Never mind; I shall soon get used to calling you Edmond--just Edmond.”
”And I--Agathe, my beloved Agathe!”
”Oh! monsieur, my dear friend didn't sanction the 'beloved'!”
”But she didn't forbid it, mademoiselle!”
”Well, well! now he's calling me 'mademoiselle' again!”
”You called me 'monsieur.'”
”Hush, child!” cried Honorine; ”someone knocked at the garden gate.”
”I didn't hear anything,” said Agathe.
”I am certain that there's someone there; and see, Ami is running in that direction, and he doesn't make mistakes.”
”Who can come so late?”
”Late! why, it isn't nine o'clock.”
”That is late for the country; we will go with you and see who it is.
Poucette is singing upstairs and did not hear.”
”Stay here; I'm not afraid; besides, Ami is with me.”
Honorine soon reached the end of the little garden. The dog was jumping against the gate, wagging his tail and uttering short, joyous little yelps. There was no possibility of mistake as to the person who was outside, and Honorine soon found herself face to face with the owner of the Tower.
”Excuse me, madame,” said Paul, as he raised his hat to the young woman.
”It is rather late for me to call upon you; but I have been to see Guillot's family and the good people kept me longer than I thought; time pa.s.ses so quickly with those who are glad to see one! When I left them I discovered that Monsieur Ami had deserted me. I thought that there was no other house but yours in this part of the country, to which he could have come, and I see that I was not mistaken.--Really, madame, I am afraid that the dog is a nuisance to you; his visits are becoming too frequent; you must send him away when he is unwelcome.”
”No, monsieur, we shall not send him away, because we are fond of him and his visits give us pleasure.--But will not you, monsieur, pa.s.s through this gate? shall we never have a visit from anybody but your dog?”