mean it, Piecola!" exclaimed the Signora, in evident
consternation. "Stay at home!--why stay at home? Euchre is very well
when there is nothing else to do: but change is pleasant; le bon Dieu
likes it,

"'Ne caldo ne gelo
Resta mai in cielo.'

"And such beautiful ices one gets at M. Louvier's! Did you taste the
pistachio ice? What fine rooms, and so well lit up! I adore light. And
the ladies so beautifully dressed: one sees the fashions. Stay at home!
play at Euchre indeed! Piccola, you cannot be so cruel to yourself: you
are young."

"But, dear Madre, just consider; we are invited because we are
considered professional singers: your reputation as such is of course
established,--mine is not; but still I shall be asked to sing, as I was
asked before; and you know Dr. C. forbids me to do so except to a very
small audience; and it is so ungracious always to say 'No;' and besides,
did you not yourself say, when we came away last time from M. Louvier's,
that it was very dull, that you knew nobody, and that the ladies had
such superb toilets that you felt mortified--and--"

"Zitto! zitto! you talk idly, Piccola,--very idly. I was mortified
then in my old black Lyons silk; but have I not bought since then my
beautiful Greek jacket,--scarlet and gold lace? and why should I buy it
if I am not to show it?"

"But, dear Madre, the jacket is certainly very handsome, and will make
an effect in a little dinner at the Savarins or Mrs. Morley's; but in a
great formal reception like M. Louvier's will it not look--"

"Splendid!" interrupted the Signora.

"But singolare."

"So much the better; did not that great English Lady wear such a jacket,
and did not every one admire her, piu tosto invidia the compassione?"

Isaura sighed. Now the jacket of the Signora was a subject of
disquietude to her friend. It so happened that a young English lady of
the highest rank and the rarest beauty had appeared at M. Louvier's,
and indeed generally in the beau monde of Paris, in a Greek jacket that
became her very much. The jacket had fascinated, at M. Louvier's, the
eyes of the Signora. But of this Isaura was unaware. The Signora, on
returning home from M. Louvier's, had certainly lamented much over the
mesquin appearance of her old-fashioned Italian habiliments compared
with the brilliant toilette of the gay Parisiennes; and Isaura--quite
woman enough to sympathize with woman in such womanly vanities--proposed
the ne