their minds and allowed themselves to be kissed.

"Good evening, good friend Santerre."

Then they hesitated before Mathieu, and their father had to remind them
of the gentleman's name, though they had already seen him on two or three
occasions.

"Good evening, Monsieur Froment."

Valentine took hold of them, sat them on her lap, and half stifled them
with caresses. She seemed to adore them, but as soon as she had sat them
down again she forgot all about them.

"So you are going out again, mamma?" asked the little boy.

"Why, yes, my darling. Papas and mammas, you know, have their affairs to
see to."

"So we shall have dinner all alone, mamma?"

Valentine did not answer, but turned towards the maid, who was waiting
for orders;--

"You are not to leave them for a moment, Celeste--you hear? And, above
all things, they are not to go into the kitchen. I can never come home
without finding them in the kitchen. It is exasperating. Let them have
their dinner at seven, and put them to bed at nine. And see that they go
to sleep."