Your baggage is here already, and we must see if the rooms
I intended for you--for you and your companion--suit you."
When Marguerite reached the second floor, Madame de Fondege hunted
in her pocket for her latch-key. Not finding it, she rang. A
tall man-servant of impudent appearance and arrayed in a glaring
livery opened the door, carrying an old battered iron candlestick,
in which a tiny scrap of candle was glaring and flickering.
"What!" exclaimed Madame de Fondege, "the reception-room not
lighted yet? This is scandalous! What have you been doing in my
absence? Come, make haste. Light the lamp. Tell the cook that I
have some guests to dine with me. Call my maid. See that M.
Gustave's room is in order. Go down and see if the General
doesn't need your assistance about the baggage."
Finding it difficult to choose between so many contradictory
orders, the servant did not choose at all. He placed his rusty
candlestick on one of the side-tables in the reception-room, and
gravely, without saying a single word, went out into the passage
leading to the kitchen. "Evariste!" cried Madame de Fondege,
crimson with anger, "Evariste, you insolent fellow!"
As he deigned no reply, she rushed out in pursuit of him. And
soon the sound of a violent altercation arose; the servant
lavishing insults upon his mistress, and she unable to find any
response, save, "I dismiss you; you are an insolent scamp--I
dismiss you.
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