Thibault in speaking had said out hunting.
“My friend, let me tell you that in society we do not say hunting and shooting, but huntin’ and shootin’.”
“Oh!” said Thibault, “I am not so particular to a letter as all that. To the health of my Lord Raoul!”
As François put down his glass on the table, he uttered an exclamation; he had that moment caught sight of Champagne.
They threw open the window and called to this third comer, and Champagne, with all the ready intuition of the well-bred servant, understood at once, and went upstairs. He was dressed, like François, in a long grey coat, and had brought a letter with him.
“Well,” asked François, as he caught sight of the letter in his hand, “and is there to be a meeting to-night?”
“Yes,” answered Champagne, with evident delight.
“That’s all right,” said François cheerfully.
Thibault was surprised at these expressions of apparent sympathy on the part of the servants with their master’s happiness.
“Is it your master’s good luck that you are so pleased about?” he asked of François.