he world. To the fire with the flowers,
the flowers of gauze, silk and velvet, the white geraniums, the anemones
empurpled by the blood of Adonis, the blue forget-me-nots and all those
charming bouquets that she put together in the far off days of your
brief happiness. Then I loved her too, your Mimi, and saw no danger in
your loving her. But follow my advice--to the fire with the ribbons, the
pretty pink, blue, and yellow ribbons which she wore round her neck to
attract the eye; to the fire with the lace, the caps, the veils and all
the coquettish trifles with which she bedecked herself to go
love-making with Monsieur Cesar, Monsieur Jerome, Monsieur Charles, or
any other gallant in the calendar, whilst you were awaiting her at your
window, shivering from the wintry blast. To the fire, Rodolphe, and
without pity, with all that belonged to her and could still speak to you
of her; to the fire with the love letters. Ah! here is one of them, and
your tears have bedewed it like a fountain. Oh! my unhappy friend!

"As you have not come in, I am going out to call on my aunt. I have
taken what money there was for a cab."

"Lucille."

That evening, oh! Rodolphe, you had, do you not recollect, to go without
your dinner, and you called on me and let off a volley of jests which
fully attested your tranquillity of mind. For you believed Lucille was
at her aunt's, and if I had not told you that she was with Monsieur
Cesar or with an actor of the Montparnasse Theater, you would have cut
my throat! To the fire, too, with this other note, which has all the
laconic affection of the first.

"I am gone out to order some boots, you must find the money for me to
go and fetch them tomorrow."

Ah! my friend, those boots have danced many quadrilles in which you did
not figure as a partner. To the flames with all these remembrances and
to the winds with their ashes.

But in the first place, oh Rodolphe! for the love of humanity and the
reputation of "The Scarf of Iris" and "The Beaver," resume the reins of
good taste that you have egotistically dropped during your sufferings,
or else horrible things may happen for which you will be responsible. We
may go back to leg-of-mutton sleeves and frilled trousers, and some fine
day see hats come into fashion which would afflict the universe and
call down the wrath of heaven.

And now the moment is come to relate the loves of our friend Rodolphe
and Mimi. It was just as he was tur