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A fortnight later Major Laguitte came one evening to invite himself to dinner. He felt some awkwardness at the prospect of meeting Burle again, not on his own account but because he dreaded awakening painful memories. However, as the captain was mending his ways he wished to shake hands and break a crust with him. He thought this would please his old friend.

When Laguitte arrived Burle was in his room, so it was the old lady who received the major. The latter, after announcing that he had come to have a plate of soup with them, added, lowering his voice:

“Well, how goes it?”

“It is all right,” answered the old lady.

“Nothing queer?”

“Absolutely nothing. Never away–in bed at nine–and looking quite happy.”

“Ah, confound it,” replied the major, “I knew very well he only wanted a shaking. He has some heart left, the dog!”

When Burle appeared he almost crushed the major’s hands in his grasp, and standing before the fire, waiting for the dinner, they conversed peacefully, honestly, together, extolling the charms of home life. The captain vowed he wouldn’t exchange his home for a kingdom and declared that when he had removed his braces, put on his slippers and settled himself in his armchair, no king was fit to hold a candle to him. The major assented and examined him. At all events his virtuous conduct had not made him any thinner; he still looked bloated; his eyes were bleared, and his mouth was heavy. He seemed to be half asleep as he repeated mechanically: “Home life! There’s nothing like home life, nothing in the world!”

“No doubt,” said the major; “still, one mustn’t exaggerate–take a little exercise and come to the cafe now and then.”

“To the cafe, why?” asked Burle. “Do I lack anything here? No, no, I remain at home.”

When Charles had laid his books aside Laguitte was surprised to see a maid come in to lay the cloth.

“So you keep a servant now,” he remarked to Mme Burle.

“I had to get one,” she answered with a sigh. “My legs are not what they used to be, and the household was going to rack and ruin. Fortunately Cabrol let me have his daughter. You know old Cabrol, who sweeps the market? He did not know what to do with Rose–I am teaching her how to work.”

Just then the girl left the room.

“How old is she?” asked the major.

“Barely seventeen. She is stupid and dirty, but I only give her ten francs a month, and she eats nothing but soup.”

When Rose returned with an armful of plates Laguitte, though he did not care about women, began to scrutinize her and was amazed at seeing so ugly a creature. She was very short, very dark and slightly deformed, with a face like an ape’s: a flat nose, a huge mouth and narrow greenish eyes. Her broad back and long arms gave her an appearance of great strength.

“What a snout!” said Laguitte, laughing, when the maid had again left the room to fetch the cruets.

“Never mind,” said Burle carelessly, “she is very obliging and does all one asks her. She suits us well enough as a scullion.”

The dinner was very pleasant. It consisted of boiled beef and mutton hash. Charles was encouraged to relate some stories of his school, and Mme Burle repeatedly asked him the same question: “Don’t you want to be a soldier?” A faint smile hovered over the child’s wan lips as he answered with the frightened obedience of a trained dog, “Oh yes, Grandmother.” Captain Burle, with his elbows on the table, was masticating slowly with an absent-minded expression. The big room was getting warmer; the single lamp placed on the table left the corners in vague gloom. There was a certain amount of heavy comfort, the familiar intimacy of penurious people who do not change their plates at every course but become joyously excited at the unexpected appearance of a bowl of whipped egg cream at the close of the meal.