A few minutes later they again encountered on the stairs. Once more they
were laden with comestibles.
"For Monsieur Lariviere," explained M'sieur. "Madame insisted. She has a
heart of gold, that woman."
"Peggy's sending these up too," said the Sergeant-Major. "I towld her thim
pancakes was the greatest surprise you iver tasted."
M'sieur nodded. In response to Hippolyte's invitation they entered the
room, and M'sieur took command of the conversation. The Sergeant-Major
stood stiffly to attention, feeling that the occasion demanded it.
"Two little gifts," said M'sieur, "of epicurean distinction. The _crepes_
of Madame Bonneton are an achievement, but the pancakes of Madame Coghlan
are irresistible."
"I thank you from the recesses of my heart," said Hippolyte with emotion;
"but--you understand me--as the slave of Art I am compelled to forgo such
pleasures."
"My friend," said M'sieur sternly, to refuse them would be an affront to
the cooking of these excellent ladies. A true housewife esteems her cooking
only next to her virtue. You must _eat_ them--while they are hot."
"But my _tremolo_--my _sostenuto_ will be ruined," said Hippolyte wildly.
"What is your _tremolo_ to a woman's tears?" said M'sieur, with an elegance
born of a fear that he might be compelled to eat the pancakes himself. "The
laws of hospitality--chivalry--_l'entente cordiale_ itself--demand that you
finish them.
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