When she introduced this new guest to them, all the seven, even to the best drilled, started.  “I see what disturbs you,” she said.  “It is his dress.  Well!  It really leaves much to be desired.  But wait a moment; that can soon be arranged.”

She rang for her lady’s maid and whispered something to her, and then she said:  “Marquis, your bath is ready in your dressing-room.  If you will follow Sabina, she will show you to it.  These gentlemen and I will wait dinner for you.”  And as soon as he had gone out, she said to the youngest there:  “And now, Ernest, go upstairs and undress; I will allow you to dine in your morning coat, and you will give your dress coat and the rest to Sabina, for the Marquis.”

Ernest was delighted at having to play a part in the piece, and the six others clapped their hands.  “Nobody else could think of such things; nobody, nobody!”

Half an hour later they were sitting at dinner, the Marquis in a dress coat on Sonia’s left, and it was a great deception for the seven.  They had reckoned on having some fun with him, and especially Ernest, who set up as a wit, had intended to draw him.  But at the first attempt of this sort, Sonia had given him a look which they all understood, and dinner began very ceremoniously for the seven, but merrily and without restraint between Sonia and the old man.

They cut very long faces, those seven, but inwardly, if one can say so, for of course they could not dream of showing how put out they were, and those inward long faces grew longer still when Sonia said to the old fellow, quite suddenly:  “I say, how stupid these gentlemen are!  Suppose we leave them to themselves?”

The Marquis rose, offered her his arm again, and said:  “Where shall we go to?” But Sonia’s only reply was to sing the couplet of that song which she had remembered: 

    “For three years I passed
    The nights with my love,
    In a beautiful bed
    In a splendid alcove. 
    Though wine makes me sleepy,
    Yet love keeps me frisky.”

And the seven, who were altogether dumbfounded this time, and who could not conceal their vexation, saw the couple disappear out of the door which led to Sonia’s apartments.  “Hum!” Ernest ventured to say, “this is really rather strong!” “Yes,” the eldest of the menagerie replied.  “It certainly is rather strong, but it will do!  You know, there is nobody like her for thinking of such things!”

The next morning, the chateau bell woke them up at six o’clock, when they had agreed to return to Paris, and the seven men asked each other whether they should go and wish Sonia good-morning, as usual, before she was out of her room.  Ernest hesitated more than any of them about it, and it was not until Sabina, her maid, came and told them that her mistress insisted upon it, that they could make up their minds to do so, and they were surprised to find Sonia in bed by herself.