"Your brother was in the dragoons, I believe," said Maxence. "I was
only a dust-trotter."
"On foot or on horseback," said Flore, "you both of you risked your
skins."
Joseph took note of Max quite as much as Max took note of Joseph. Max,
who got his clothes from Paris, was dressed as the young dandies of
that day dressed themselves. A pair of light-blue cloth trousers, made
with very full plaits, covered his feet so that only the toes and the
spurs of his boots were seen. His waist was pinched in by a white
waistcoat with chased gold buttons, which was laced behind to serve as
a belt. The waistcoat, buttoned to the throat, showed off his broad
chest, and a black satin stock obliged him to hold his head high, in
soldierly fashion. A handsome gold chain hung from a waistcoat pocket,
in which the outline of a flat watch was barely seen. He was twisting
a watch-key of the kind called a "criquet," which Breguet had lately
invented.
"The fellow is fine-looking," thought Joseph, admiring with a
painter's eye the eager face, the air of strength, and the
intellectual gray eyes which Max had inherited from his father, the
noble. "My uncle must be a fearful bore, and that handsome girl takes
her compensations. It is a triangular household; I see that."
At this instant, Baruch and Francois entered.
"Have you been to see the tower of Issoudun?" Flore asked Joseph. "No?
then if you would like to take a little walk before dinner, which will
not be served for an hour, we will show you the great curiosity of the
town.
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