Three days after his introduction to the family of Madame de Cintre, Newman, coming in toward evening, found upon his table the card of the Marquis de Bellegarde.

On the following day he received a note informing him that the Marquise de Bellegarde would be grateful for the honor of his company at dinner.
He went, of course, though he had to break another engagement to do it.
He was ushered into the room in which Madame de Bellegarde had received him before, and here he found his venerable hostess, surrounded by her entire family.

The room was lighted only by the crackling fire, which illuminated the very small pink slippers of a lady who, seated in a low chair, was stretching out her toes before it.

This lady was the younger Madame de Bellegarde.

Madame de Cintre was seated at the other end of the room, holding a little girl against her knee, the child of her brother Urbain, to whom she was apparently relating a wonderful story.
Valentin was sitting on a puff, close to his sister-in-law, into whose ear he was certainly distilling the finest nonsense.