“Well, here you are at last!  How have you managed it?”

Vandeuvres took her remarks with equal pleasantry.  He told her that he had lost a fabulous sum of money at the club yesterday and thereupon had come away with the intention of ending up in the country.

“’Pon my word, yes, if only you can find me an heiress in these rustic parts!  There must be delightful women hereabouts.”

The old lady rendered equal thanks to Daguenet and Fauchery for having been so good as to accept her son’s invitation, and then to her great and joyful surprise she saw the Marquis de Chouard enter the room.  A third carriage had brought him.

“Dear me, you’ve made this your trysting place today!” she cried.  “You’ve passed word round!  But what’s happening?  For years I’ve never succeeded in bringing you all together, and now you all drop in at once.  Oh, I certainly don’t complain.”

Another place was laid.  Fauchery found himself next the Countess Sabine, whose liveliness and gaiety surprised him when he remembered her drooping, languid state in the austere Rue Miromesnil drawing room.  Daguenet, on the other hand, who was seated on Estelle’s left, seemed slightly put out by his propinquity to that tall, silent girl.  The angularity of her elbows was disagreeable to him.  Muffat and Chouard had exchanged a sly glance while Vandeuvres continued joking about his coming marriage.

“Talking of ladies,” Mme Hugon ended by saying, “I have a new neighbor whom you probably know.”

And she mentioned Nana.  Vandeuvres affected the liveliest astonishment.

“Well, that is strange!  Nana’s property near here!”

Fauchery and Daguenet indulged in a similar demonstration while the Marquis de Chouard discussed the breast of a chicken without appearing to comprehend their meaning.  Not one of the men had smiled.

“Certainly,” continued the old lady, “and the person in question arrived at La Mignotte yesterday evening, as I was saying she would.  I got my information from the gardener this morning.”

At these words the gentlemen could not conceal their very real surprise.  They all looked up.  Eh?  What?  Nana had come down!  But they were only expecting her next day; they were privately under the impression that they would arrive before her!  Georges alone sat looking at his glass with drooped eyelids and a tired expression.  Ever since the beginning of lunch he had seemed to be sleeping with open eyes and a vague smile on his lips.

“Are you still in pain, my Zizi?” asked his mother, who had been gazing at him throughout the meal.

He started and blushed as he said that he was very well now, but the worn-out insatiate expression of a girl who has danced too much did not fade from his face.

“What’s the matter with your neck?” resumed Mme Hugon in an alarmed tone.  “It’s all red.”

He was embarrassed and stammered.  He did not know—­he had nothing the matter with his neck.  Then drawing his shirt collar up: