"You must have contrived to take our measures," said they; "but we cannot
imagine how you did it."

"The funniest thing is," said the eldest, "that you have had my dress
made so that it can be let out when necessary without destroying the
shape. But what a beautiful piece of trimming! It is worth four times as
much as the dress itself."

Clementine could not keep away from the looking-glass. She fancied that
in the colours of her dress, rose and green, I had indicated the
characteristics of the youthful Hebe. Eleanore still maintained that her
dress was the prettiest of all.

I was delighted with the pleasure of my fair guests, and we sat down to
table with excellent appetites. The dinner was extremely choice; but the
finest dish of all was a dish of oysters, which the landlord had dressed
a la maitre d'hotel. We enjoyed them immensely. We finished off three
hundred of them, for the ladies relished them extremely, and the canon
seemed to have an insatiable appetite; and we washed down the dishes with
numerous bottles of champagne. We stayed at table for three hours,
drinking, singing, and jesting, while my humble servants, whose beauty
almost rivalled that of my guests, waited upon us.

Towards the end of the meal the pastry-cook's wife came in with the
countess's baby on her breast. This was a dramatic stroke. The mother
burst into a cry of joy, and the woman seemed quite proud of having
suckled the scion of so illustrious a house for nearly four hours. It is
well known that women, even more than men, are wholly under the sway of
the imagination. Who can say that this woman, simple and honest like the
majority of the lower classes, did not think that her own offspring would
be ennobled by being suckled at the breast which had nourished a young
count? Such an idea is, no doubt, foolish, but that is the very reason
why it is dear to the hearts of the people.

We spent another hour in taking coffee and punch, and then the ladies
went to change their clothes again. Zenobia took care that their new ones
should be carefully packed in cardboard boxes and placed under the seat
of my carriage.

Croce's abandoned mistress found an opportunity of telling me that she
was very happy with Zenobia. She asked me when we were to go.

"You will be at Marseilles," said I, pressing her hand, "a fortnight
after Easter at latest."

Zenobia had told me that the girl had an excellent heart, behaved very
discreetly, and that she sho