"The supper is served, madame," said she, with a respectful courtesy
and a mechanical tone, and, plunging into the night, swam out at her own
candle, shut the door, and, unlocking her face that moment, burst out
radiant, and so to the kitchen, and, with a tear in her eye, set-to and
polished all the copper stewpans with a vigor and expedition unknown to
the new-fangled domestic.
"Partridges, mamma! What next?"
"Pheasants, I hope," cried the doctor, gayly. "And after them hares; to
conclude with royal venison. Permit me, ladies." And he set himself to
carve with zeal.
Now nature is nature, and two pair of violet eyes brightened and dwelt
on the fragrant and delicate food with demure desire; for all that,
when Aubertin offered Josephine a wing, she declined it. "No partridge?"
cried the savant, in utter amazement.
"Not to-day, dear friend; it is not a feast day to-day."
"Ah! no; what was I thinking of?"
"But you are not to be deprived," put in Josephine, anxiously. "We will
not deny ourselves the pleasure of seeing you eat some."
"What!" remonstrated Aubertin, "am I not one of you?"
The baroness had attended to every word of this.
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