take at that hour either tea or a better kind of wine than that
which Michel Voss gave to his accustomed guests without any special
charge. When, however, the stranger should please to take the
common wine, he was by no means thereby prejudiced in the eyes of
Madame Voss or her husband. Michel Voss liked a profit, but he
liked the habits of his country almost as well.

One evening in September, about twelve months after the departure of
George, Madame Voss took her seat at the table, and the young men of
the place who had been waiting round the door of the hotel for a few
minutes, followed her into the room. And there was M. Goudin, the
Cure, with another young clergyman, his friend. On Sundays the Cure
always dined at the hotel at half-past twelve o'clock, as the friend
of the family; but for his supper he paid, as did the other guests.
I rather fancy that 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