. The works of Charles Paul de Kock. to take M. Eugene his valise whichhe had told me to pack for him. Why did you pack his valise without tellingmer Jingo! M. Eugene said to me, My fatherhas turned me out; pack my valise quickly, stuffeverything belonging to me into it. I obeyedhim, I didnt think that you would want to keepyour sons clothes. Be off—you are an ass ! Jacquet went out muttering, An ass, am I ?Let him try to get on my back, thats all; Illthrow him to the ground. Friquette continued to wait on her master, say-ing to him in a little wheedhng voice,— Monsieur isnt eating anything. Y
. The works of Charles Paul de Kock. to take M. Eugene his valise whichhe had told me to pack for him. Why did you pack his valise without tellingmer Jingo! M. Eugene said to me, My fatherhas turned me out; pack my valise quickly, stuffeverything belonging to me into it. I obeyedhim, I didnt think that you would want to keepyour sons clothes. Be off—you are an ass ! Jacquet went out muttering, An ass, am I ?Let him try to get on my back, thats all; Illthrow him to the ground. Friquette continued to wait on her master, say-ing to him in a little wheedhng voice,— Monsieur isnt eating anything. Youre nothungry, are you, monsieur ? No, I am not hungry! Mademoiselle Dianahas made up her mind not to come down then? If you like, monsieur, Ill go and tell her thatyou wish her to come down. For me to hear nothing but snivelling andsighing. Its not worth while ; I will dispense withher company. Why, whats this I hear, its not thecornet, surely ? Yes, its my daughter playing herfavorite tune, II faut quitter Marie. It seemsshes. Marcdin was planted in front of the house . . holding hishand to his heart. Original Etching by Louis Meynell. CHARLES PAUL DE KOCK iii not so disconsolate as you wanted me to under-stand she was. Friquette could not understand why her youngmistress played the cornet at this moment, andhastily answered,— It is to distract herself that mademoiselle isplaying her instrument — and to please you also,monsieur? Oh, so you think it is to please me that shesplaying the cornet now instead of coming down todinner ? M. Belatout, who began to have suspicions, ranto the window which looked on the street, openedit and saw Marcelin planted in front of his housewith his eyes fixed on the windows of Dianasroom, holding his hand to his heart. When hesaw his beloveds father appear at a window on thegroundfloor, the lover fled and the cornet grewsilent. Yes, my daughter was playing her cornet forme, said M. Belatout, and it brought M. Marce-lin under her window.
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