Monsieur Batonnin tried to find a seat at the ladies' table, but, despite his everlasting smile, no one would make room for him. So he decided to remain standing, and naturally stationed himself behind Adolphine, whom he pestered with attentions; for Adolphine had no appetite, and refused almost everything which he ordered for her, and which he did not fail to obtain at once by saying:
"It's for the sister of Madame Monléard, the queen of the fête."
With these magic words, Batonnin was quite sure to obtain all that he could possibly want; but if his courtesy was absolutely wasted, it was not so with the dishes which were refused; for when Adolphine said: "Thanks, monsieur; but I will not eat anything," the soft-spoken gentleman invariably adjudged what happened to be on the plate to himself, saying:
"Well, since you don't care for it, faith! I'll eat it myself."
And, thanks to this clever management, he supped quite as well as, perhaps better than, if he had had a seat among the ladies. To be sure, he had to eat standing.
When the ladies had left the table, and the men came to take their places, Monsieur Batonnin, whether by accident or from absent-mindedness, imitating the worthies of whom we spoke a moment ago, found himself seated beside Monsieur Clairval.
"What! eating another supper?" queried the latter.
"But, unless I am very much mistaken, when I looked in just now to admire the charming picture presented by all the ladies seated at the table, you were behind Mademoiselle Adolphine, with a plate in your hand, and eating what was on the plate."
"That is to say, I was standing behind Mademoiselle Adolphine to wait upon her, and I passed her whatever she wanted."
"I saw that you were eating all the time."
"Tasting, perhaps, but if you call that eating! And then, I was standing up. What one eats standing never counts."
"Well, my dear Monsieur Batonnin, I don't undertake to reprove you for it; on the contrary, you deserve to be congratulated.--Honor to great talents of all varieties! A good stomach is a blessing of Providence. The wealthiest of men, if his liver doesn't work right, is, to my mind, less to be envied than the poor man who can readily digest his bacon-rind and similar delicacies."