"Cashier, you've got the bag;Quick on your little nag"Neither did she spare him a single verse: and, when she stopped,I see with pleasure," said M. de Traggers, "that the embezzlementof which your father has just been the victim does not in any wayoffend your good humor."She shrugged her shoulders.

Would you have me cry," she said, "because the stockholders of theBaron Three Francs Sixty-eight have been swindled? Consoleyourself: they are accustomed to it."And, as M. de Traggers made no answer,"And in all that," she went on, " I see no one to pity except thewife and daughter of that old stick Favoral.""They are, indeed, much to he pitied.""They say that the mother is a good old thing.""She is an excellent person.""And the daughter? Costeclar was crazy about her once. He madeeyes like a carp in love, as he told us, to mamma and myself,'She is an angel, mesdames, an angel! And when I have given her alittle chic!' Now tell me, is she really as good looking as allthat?""She is quite good looking.""Better looking than me?""It is not the same style, mademoiselle."Mlle. de Thaller had stopped singing; but she had not left thepiano. Half turned towards M. de Traggers, she ran her fingerslistlessly over the keys, striking a note here and there, as if topunctuate her sentences.

"Ah, how nice!" she exclaimed, "and, above all, how gallant!

Really, if you venture often on such declarations, mothers would bevery wrong to trust you alone with their daughters.""You did not understand me right, mademoiselle.""Perfectly right, on the contrary. I asked you if I was betterlooking than Mlle. Favoral; and you replied to me, that it was notthe same style.""It is because, mademoiselle, there is indeed no possible comparisonbetween you, who are a wealthy heiress, and whose life is aperpetual enchantment, and a poor girl, very humble, and very modest,who rides in the omnibus, and who makes her dresses herself."A contemptuous smile contracted Mlle. Cesarine's lips.

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"Why not?" she interrupted. "Men have such funny tastes!"And, turning around suddenly, she began another rondo, no lessfamous than the first, and borrowed, this time, from the third actof the Petites-Blanchisseuses:

What matters the quality?

Beauty alone takes the prizeWomen before man must rise,And claim perfect equality."Very attentively M. de Traggers was observing her. He had not beenthe dupe of the great surprise she had manifested when she foundhim in the little parlor.

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"She knew I was here," he thought; "and it is her mother who hassent her to me. But why? and for what purpose?""With all that," she resumed, "I see the sweet Mme. Favoral and hermodest daughter in a terribly tight place. What a 'bust,' marquis!""They have a great deal of courage, mademoiselle.""Naturally. But, what is better, the daughter has a splendid voice:

at least, so her professor told Costeclar. Why should she not go onthe stage? Actresses make lots of money, you know. Papal helpher, if she wishes. He has a great deal of influence in thetheatres, papa has.""Mme. and Mlle. Favoral have friends.""Ah, yes! Costeclar.""Others besides.""I beg your pardon; but it seems to me that this one will do tobegin with. He is gallant, Costeclar, extremely gallant, and,moreover, generous as a lord. Why should he not offer to thatyouthful and timid damsel a nice little position in mahogany androsewood? That way, we should have the pleasure of meeting heraround the lake."And she began singing again, with a slight variation 'Macon, who,before the war,Carried clothes for a living,Now for her gains is trustingTo that insane Costeclar.""Ah, that big red-headed girl is terribly provoking!" thought M.

de Traggers.

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But, as he did not as yet understand very clearly what she wishedto come to, he kept on his guard, and remained cold as marble.

Already she had again turned towards him.

"What a face you are making!" she said. "Are you jealous of thefiery Costeclar, by chance?""No, mademoiselle, no!""Then, why don't you want him to succeed in his love? But he will,you'll see! Five hundred francs on Costeclar! Do you take it?