laugh, to amuse themselves, made appointments
with him and proposed all sorts of things.

So Madame Husson had become thoughtful.

Certainly, Isidore was an exceptional case of notorious, unassailable
virtue. No one, among the most sceptical, most incredulous, would have
been able, would have dared, to suspect Isidore of the slightest
infraction of any law of morality. He had never been seen in a cafe,
never been seen at night on the street. He went to bed at eight o'clock
and rose at four. He was a perfection, a pearl.

But Mme. Husson still hesitated. The idea of substituting a boy for a
girl, a "rosier" for a "rosiere," troubled her, worried her a little, and
she resolved to consult Abbe Malon.

The abbe responded:

"What do you desire to reward, madame? It is virtue, is it not, and
nothing but virtue? What does it matter to you, therefore, if it is
masculine or feminine? Virtue is eternal; it has neither sex nor country;
it is 'Virtue.'"

Thus encouraged, Mme. Husson went to see the mayor.

He approved heartily.

"We will have a fine ceremony," he said. "And another year if we can find
a girl as worthy as Isidore we will give the reward to her. It will even
be a good example that we shall set to Nanterre. Let us not be exclusive;
let us welcome all merit."

Isidore, who had been told about this, blushed deeply and seemed happy.

The ceremony was fixed for the 15th of August, the festival of the Virgin
Mary and of the Emperor Napoleon. The municipality had decided to make an
imposing ceremony and had built the platform on the couronneaux, a
delightful extension of the ramparts of the old citadel where I will take
you presently.

With the natural revulsion of public feeling, the virtue of Isidore,
ridiculed hitherto, had suddenly become respected and envied, as it would
bring him in five hundred francs besides a savings bank book, a mountain
of consideration, and glory enough and to spare. The girls now regretted
their frivolity, their ridicule, their bold manners; and Isidore,
although still modest and timid, had now a little contented air that
bespoke his internal satisfaction.

The evening before the 15th of August the entire Rue Dauphine was
decorated with flags. Oh, I forgot to tell you why this street had been
called Rue Dauphine.

It seems that the wife or mother of the dauphin, I do not remember which
one, while visiting Gisors had been feted so much by the authorities that
during a triumphal