“Alfred was admitted here tonight,” said she, “through the influence of his aunt, Madame la Baronne de Dorlodot ; and now, having seen him, can you not understand why I have been in such spirits all the evening, and acted so well, and danced with such life, and why I am now happy as a queen? Dieu! Dieu! It was such good fun to glance first at him and then at the other, and madden them both.”

“But that other⁠—where is he? Show me Isidore.”

“I don’t like.”

“Why not?”

“I am ashamed of him.”

“For what reason?”

“Because⁠—because” (in a whisper) “he has such⁠—such whiskers, orange⁠—red⁠—there now!”