V.


Poor Mr. Plateas was waiting for his friend impatiently.

On reaching home he had found his dinner growing cold, and Florou
worrying over her master's unusual tardiness; it was full twenty minutes
after noon! Although the professor was hungry and ate with relish, his
mind was ill at ease. He yearned to talk to some one, but there was no
one to talk to. He would have been glad to tell his story even to
Florou, but she cared neither to talk nor to listen; conversation was
not her strong point.

Besides, her master rather shrank from telling her that be had made up
his mind to get married, and that her reign was over. Since his mother's
death, Florou had had absolute control over the household; why make her
unhappy before it was necessary? On the other hand, he could contain
himself no longer; if he had not spoken, there is no telling what would
have happened.

Not daring to face the question boldly, he beat about the bush, and
tried to pass adroitly from the subject of dinner to that of marriage.

"Florou," he said, "your meat is overdone."

The old woman made no reply, but looked up at the sun as if to suggest
that the fault lay not with her, but with her master's tardiness.

He paid no attention to her mute reproach.