"I am sure Madame Rousseau will not feel like joining in a feast at
this time," said Mrs. Bingle. "It is hardly an occasion for
jollification--"

"Ah, Madame," cried Madame Rousseau, with sparkling eyes, "it is not
for myself that I would jollify, but for the adored Napoleon. It is
for him that I would rejoice. Is he not to become rich and honoured,
and is he not to be given by law a name that he can never be ashamed
of as long as he--"

Rouquin broke in again, hastily and somewhat apprehensively. "Let us
save our fine phrases for the banquet board. Ah, I can see it in
M'sieur Bingle's face! He will accept my little hospitality. He will
come with Madame to Pierre's. He will make me to be forever honoured
among men. He--"

"I'll come on one condition only, Rouquin."

"And what is that, M'sieur?"

"That I may settle the bill."

Rouquin was amiable. He shrugged his shoulders and beamed. "I should
be the last to say no to any demand of my guests. If it would give you
pleasure, sir, to pay for my dinner, I shall not protest. I am the
most courteous of hosts. The smallest wish of my guests must be
gratified. However, sir, I reserve the right to order the dinner which
I am giving. You will not deny me that, I am sure."

"By no means," cried Bingle. "Order whatever you like, Rouquin. I've