his well-doing. 
CHAPTER II. 
Exactly at eight o'clock every evening a loud bell was sounded in the 
hotel of the Lion d'Or at Granpere, and all within the house sat down 
together to supper. The supper was spread on a long table in the saloon 
up-stairs, and the room was lighted with camphine lamps,- -for as yet 
gas had not found its way to Granpere. At this meal assembled not only 
the guests in the house and the members of the family of the 
landlord,--but also many persons living in the village whom it suited to 
take, at a certain price per month, the chief meal of the day, at the 
house of the innkeeper, instead of eating in their own houses a more 
costly, a less dainty, and probably a lonely supper. Therefore when the 
bell was heard there came together some dozen residents of Granpere, 
mostly young men engaged in the linen trade, from their different 
lodgings, and each took his accustomed seat down the sides of the long 
board, at which, tied in a knot, was placed his own napkin. At the top 
of the table was the place of Madame Voss, which she never failed to 
fill exactly three minutes after the bell had been rung. At her right hand 
was the chair of the master of the house,--never occupied by any one 
else;--but it would often happen that some business would keep him 
away. Since George had left him he had taken the timber into his own 
hands, and was accustomed to think and sometimes to say that the 
necessity was cruel on him. Below his chair and on the other side of 
Madame Voss there would generally be two or three places kept for 
guests who might be specially looked upon as the intimate friends of 
the mistress of the house; and at the farther end of the table, close to the
window, was the space allotted to travellers. Here the napkins were not 
tied in knots, but were always clean. And, though the little plates of 
radishes, cakes, and dried fruits were continued from one of the tables 
to the other, the long-necked thin bottles of common wine came to an 
end before they reached the strangers' portion of the board; for it had 
been found that strangers would take at that hour either tea or a better 
kind of wine than that which Michel Voss gave to his accustomed 
guests without any special charge. When, however, the stranger should 
please to take the common wine, he was by no means thereby 
prejudiced in the eyes of Madame Voss or her husband. Michel Voss 
liked a profit, but he liked the habits of his country almost as well. 
One evening in September, about twelve months after the departure of 
George, Madame Voss took her seat at the table, and the young men of 
the place who had been waiting round the door of the hotel for a few 
minutes, followed her into the room. And there was M. Goudin, the 
Cure, with another young clergyman, his friend. On Sundays the Cure 
always dined at the hotel at half-past twelve o'clock, as the friend of the 
family; but for his supper he paid, as did the other guests. I rather fancy 
that on week days he had no particular dinner; and indeed there was no 
such formal meal given in the house of Michel Voss on week days. 
There was something put on the table about noon in the little room 
between the kitchen and the public window; but except on Sundays it 
could hardly be called a dinner. On Sundays a real dinner was served in 
the room up-stairs, with soup, and removes, and entrees and the roti, all 
in the right place,--which showed that they knew what a dinner was at 
the Lion d'Or;--but, throughout the week, supper was the meal of the 
day. After M. Goudin, on this occasion, there came two maiden ladies 
from Epinal who were lodging at Granpere for change of air. They 
seated themselves near to Madame Voss, but still leaving a place or 
two vacant. And presently at the bottom of the table there came an 
Englishman and his wife, who were travelling through the country; and 
so the table was made up. A lad of about fifteen, who was known in 
Granpere as the waiter at the Lion d'Or, looked after the two strangers 
and the young men, and Marie Bromar, who herself had arranged the 
board, stood at the top of the room, by a second table, and dispensed 
the soup. It was pleasant to watch her eyes, as she marked the moment
when the dispensing should begin, and counted her guests, thoughtful 
as to the sufficiency of the dishes to come; and noticed that Edmond    
    
		
	
	
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