“How surprised poor Vandeuvres would be if he were to come back,” murmured Foucarmont.  “You remember how he simply nearly died of boredom in front of the fire in there.  Egad, it was no laughing matter.”

“Vandeuvres—­oh, let him be.  He’s a gone coon!” La Faloise disdainfully rejoined.  “He jolly well choused himself, he did, if he thought he could make us sit up with his roast-meat story!  Not a soul mentions it now.  Blotted out, done for, buried—­that’s what’s the matter with Vandeuvres!  Here’s to the next man!”

Then as Steiner shook hands with him: 

“You know Nana’s just arrived.  Oh, my boys, it was a state entry.  It was too brilliant for anything!  First of all she kissed the countess.  Then when the children came up she gave them her blessing and said to Daguenet, ’Listen, Paul, if you go running after the girls you’ll have to answer for it to me.’  What, d’you mean to say you didn’t see that?  Oh, it was smart.  A success, if you like!”

The other two listened to him, openmouthed, and at last burst out laughing.  He was enchanted and thought himself in his best vein.

“You thought it had really happened, eh?  Confound it, since Nana’s made the match!  Anyway, she’s one of the family.”

The young Hugons were passing, and Philippe silenced him.  And with that they chatted about the marriage from the male point of view.  Georges was vexed with La Faloise for telling an anecdote.  Certainly Nana had fubbed off on Muffat one of her old flames as son-in-law; only it was not true that she had been to bed with Daguenet as lately as yesterday.  Foucarmont made bold to shrug his shoulders.  Could anyone ever tell when Nana was in bed with anyone?  But Georges grew excited and answered with an “I can tell, sir!” which set them all laughing.  In a word, as Steiner put it, it was all a very funny kettle of fish!

The buffet was gradually invaded by the crowd, and, still keeping together, they vacated their positions there.  La Faloise stared brazenly at the women as though he believed himself to be Mabille.  At the end of a garden walk the little band was surprised to find M. Venot busily conferring with Daguenet, and with that they indulged in some facile pleasantries which made them very merry.  He was confessing him, giving him advice about the bridal night!  Presently they returned in front of one of the drawing-room doors, within which a polka was sending the couples whirling to and fro till they seemed to leave a wake behind them among the crowd of men who remained standing about.  In the slight puffs of air which came from outside the tapers flared up brilliantly, and when a dress floated by in time to the rat-tat of the measure, a little gust of wind cooled the sparkling heat which streamed down from the lusters.

“Egad, they’re not cold in there!” muttered La Faloise.