on week days he had no particular dinner; and indeed there was no such formal meal given in the house of Michel Voss on week days.  There was something put on the table about noon in the little room between the kitchen and the public window; but except on Sundays it could hardly be called a dinner.  On Sundays a real dinner was served in the room up-stairs, with soup, and removes, and entrees and the roti, all in the right place,—­which showed that they knew what a dinner was at the Lion d’Or;—­but, throughout the week, supper was the meal of the day.  After M. Goudin, on this occasion, there came two maiden ladies from Epinal who were lodging at Granpere for change of air.  They seated themselves near to Madame Voss, but still leaving a place or two vacant.  And presently at the bottom of the table there came an Englishman and his wife, who were travelling through the country; and so the table was made up.  A lad of about fifteen, who was known in Granpere as the waiter at the Lion d’Or, looked after the two strangers and the young men, and Marie Bromar, who herself had arranged the board, stood at the top of the room, by a second table, and dispensed the soup.  It was pleasant to watch her eyes, as she marked the moment when the dispensing should begin, and counted her guests, thoughtful as to the sufficiency of the dishes to come; and noticed that Edmond Greisse had sat down with such dirty hands that she must bid her uncle to warn the lad; and observed that the more elderly of the two ladies from Epinal had bread too hard to suit her,—­which should be changed as soon as the soup had been dispensed.  She looked round, and even while dispensing saw everything.  It was suggested in the last chapter that another house might have been built in Granpere, and that George Voss might have gone there, taking Marie as his bride; but the Lion d’Or would sorely have missed those quick and careful eyes.

Then, when that dispensing of the soup was concluded, Michel entered the room bringing with him a young man.  The young man had evidently been expected; for, when he took the place close at the left hand of Madame Voss, she simply bowed to him, saying some word of courtesy as Michel took his place on the other side.  Then Marie dispensed two more portions of soup, and leaving one on the farther table for the boy to serve, though she could well have brought the two, waited herself upon her uncle.  ‘And is Urmand to have no soup?’ said Michel Voss, as he took his niece lovingly by the hand.

‘Peter is bringing it,’ said Marie.  And in a moment or two Peter the waiter did bring the young man his soup.

‘And will not Mademoiselle Marie sit down with us?’ said the young man.

‘If you can make her, you have more influence than I,’ said Michel.  ‘Marie never sits, and never eats, and never drinks.’  She was standing now close behind her uncle with both her hands upon his head; and she would often stand so after the supper was commenced, only moving to attend upon him, or to supplement the services of Peter and the maid-servant when she perceived that they were becoming for a time inadequate to their duties.  She answered her uncle now by gently pulling his ears, but she said nothing.