This sentiment tickled Celeste, who burst out laughing.  “You haven’t an idea,” said she, “of the infernal life that Marie leads here!  She fights people, she threw a water-bottle at the coachman, she broke a big vase in madame’s apartments, she makes them all tremble with constant dread that something awful may happen.  And, then, if you knew what tricks she plays to get something to drink!  For it was found out that she drank, and all the liqueurs were put under lock and key.  So you don’t know what she devised?  Well, last week she drained a whole bottle of Eau de Melisse, and was ill, quite ill, from it.  Another time she was caught sipping some Eau de Cologne from one of the bottles in madame’s dressing-room.  I now really believe that she treats herself to some of the spirits of wine that are given her for the warmer!—­it’s enough to make one die of laughing.  I’m always splitting my sides over it, in my little corner.”

Then she laughed till the tears came into her eyes; and La Couteau, on her side highly amused, began to wriggle with a savage delight.  All at once, however, she calmed down and exclaimed, “But, I say, they will turn her out of doors?”

“Oh! that won’t be long.  They would have done so already if they had dared.”

But at this moment the ringing of a bell was heard, and an oath escaped Celeste.  “Good! there’s madame ringing for me now!  One can never be at peace for a moment.”

La Couteau, however, was already standing up, quite serious, intent on business and ready to depart.

“Come, little one, don’t be foolish, you must do your work.  For my part I have an idea.  I’ll run to fetch one of the nurses whom I brought this morning, a girl I can answer for as for myself.  In an hour’s time I’ll be back here with her, and there will be a little present for you if you help me to get her the situation.”

She disappeared while the maid, before answering a second ring, leisurely replaced the malaga and the biscuits at the bottom of the cupboard.

At ten o’clock that day Seguin was to take his wife and their friend Santerre to Mantes, to lunch there, by way of trying an electric motor-car, which he had just had built at considerable expense.  He had become fond of this new “sport,” less from personal taste, however, than from his desire to be one of the foremost in taking up a new fashion.  And a quarter of an hour before the time fixed for starting he was already in his spacious “cabinet,” arrayed in what he deemed an appropriate costume:  a jacket and breeches of greenish ribbed velvet, yellow shoes, and a little leather hat.  And he poked fun at Santerre when the latter presented himself in town attire, a light gray suit of delicate effect.