Part 11 (1/2)
”That's about it,” said Bijou. ”I don't know what's the matter with you, but you certainly are absent-minded this evening.”
Without answering, Rueille drew his quill-pen across the paper, bearing on heavily, so that the pen gave a plaintive screech.
”What are you doing now?” asked Jean.
”I am crossing it out.”
”What are you crossing out?”
”Well, I had written the same sentences over four times each.”
Bijou and Blaye got up to examine M. de Rueille's work, and the young girl read out:
”_Madame de Stael_: 'I am Madame de Stael.'
_Thomas Vireloque_: 'Beg pardon?'
_Madame de Stael_; 'I am Madame de Stael.'
_Thomas Vireloque_: 'Beg pardon?'
_Madame de Stael_; 'I am Madame de Stael.'”
”Oh, yes,” said Bijou, ”you must cross that out!”
”No, leave it as it is, on the contrary,” protested Jean, laughing; ”they'll think that Maeterlinck collaborated with us--it will be capital.”
”Supposing we were to retire,” proposed M. de Jonzac. ”Paul is half-asleep, that's why he wrote the same thing over three times without noticing it. Abbe Courteil is fast asleep, and, as for me, I am dying to follow his example.”
”Oh,” said Bijou, ”it is scarcely one o'clock.”
”Well, but it seems to me that in the country--What do you say about the matter, Monsieur Giraud?”
”Oh, as for me, monsieur, I could sit up all night without feeling sleepy,” replied the young tutor, without taking his eyes off Bijou.
”My dear children,” said the marchioness, getting up, ”your uncle is quite right, you must go to bed. Bijou, will you see that the books you had out of the library are put back?”
”Yes grandmamma, I will put them back myself.”
When the others had gone upstairs, M. de Rueille asked:
”Shall I help you, Bijou? two will do it more quickly--”
”No, you don't know anything about the library; you would mix them all up. I must have someone who knows where the books go.” And then turning towards the tutor, who was just going out of the room, she said to him, in the most charming way, as though to excuse the liberty she was taking: ”Monsieur Giraud, would _you_ help me to put the books up?”
The young man stopped short, too delighted even for words. As he remained standing there, she pointed to the open door leading into the hall and said gently:
”Will you shut the door, please? And then, if you will take Moliere, I will bring Aristophanes, and we will come back for the others--yes, that's it.”