"What do you mean by that ?" "I mean that your butler had not wine for all tastes, monsieur; and that M.de la Fontaine, M.Pelisson, and M.Conrart, do not drink when they come to the house--these gentlemen do not like strong wine.

What is to be done, then ?" "Well, and therefore ?" "Well, then, I have found here a _vin de Joigny_, which they like.

I know they come here once a week to drink at the Image-de-Notre-Dame.
That is the reason I am making this provision." Fouquet had no more to say; he was convinced.

Vatel, on his part, had much more to say, without doubt, and it was plain he was getting warm.
"It is just as if you would reproach me, monseigneur, for going to the Rue Planche Milbray, to fetch, myself, the cider M.Loret drinks when he comes to dine at your house." "Loret drinks cider at my house!" cried Fouquet, laughing.
"Certainly he does, monsieur, and that is the reason why he dines there with pleasure." "Vatel," cried Fouquet, pressing the hand of his _maitre d'hotel_, "you are a man! I thank you, Vatel, for having understood that at my house M.de la Fontaine, M.Conrart, and M.Loret are as great as dukes and peers, as great as princes, greater than myself.

Vatel, you are a good servant, and I double your salary." Vatel did not even thank his master, he merely shrugged his shoulders a little, murmuring this superb sentiment: "To be thanked for having done one's duty is humiliating." "He is right," said Gourville, as he drew Fouquet's attention, by a gesture, to another point.