ich I thought very odd indeed. After several vain attempts to
comprehend the motives of these two droll old creatures for inviting me
to join them at their gouter, I at last fairly gave it up, and resigning
myself to inevitable mystification, I sat and looked first at one, then
at the other, taking care meantime to do justice to the confitures,
cakes, and coffee, with which they amply supplied me. They, too, ate,
and that with no delicate appetite, and having demolished a large
portion of the solids, they proposed a "petit verre." I declined. Not
so Mesdames Pelet and Reuter; each mixed herself what I thought rather
a stiff tumbler of punch, and placing it on a stand near the stove, they
drew up their chairs to that convenience, and invited me to do the same.
I obeyed; and being seated fairly between them, I was thus addressed
first by Madame Pelet, then by Madame Reuter.

"We will now speak of business," said Madame Pelet, and she went on to
make an elaborate speech, which, being interpreted, was to the effect
that she had asked for the pleasure of my company that evening in
order to give her friend Madame Reuter an opportunity of broaching an
important proposal, which might turn out greatly to my advantage.

"Pourvu que vous soyez sage," said Madame Reuter, "et a vrai dire,
vous en avez bien l'air. Take one drop of the punch" (or ponche, as she
pronounced it); "it is an agreeable and wholesome beverage after a full
meal."

I bowed, but again declined it. She went on:

"I feel," said she, after a solemn sip--"I feel profoundly the
importance of the commission with which my dear daughter has entrusted
me, for you are aware, Monsieur, that it is my daughter who directs the
establishment in the next house?"

"Ah! I thought it was yourself, madame." Though, indeed, at that moment
I recollected that it was called Mademoiselle, not Madame Reuter's
pensionnat.

"I! Oh, no! I manage the house and look after the servants, as my friend
Madame Pelet does for Monsieur her son--nothing more. Ah! you thought I
gave lessons in class--did you?"

And she laughed loud and long, as though the idea tickled her fancy
amazingly.

"Madame is in the wrong to laugh," I observed; "if she does not give
lessons, I am sure it is not because she cannot;" and I whipped out a
white pocket-handkerchief and wafted it, with a French grace, past my
nose, bowing at the name time.

"Quel charmant jeune homme!" murmured Madame Pelet in a low voic