every glass of wine, and told them all with a quiet
humor of his own.

Toward the end of dinner, by the time the waiter came to offer us
"almonds and raisins, pears, peaches, preserves, meringues, brandy
cherries," we had got upon the subject of Sidonie, the pearl of Forez. M.
Flamaran narrated to us, with dates, how a friend of his one day depicted
to him a young girl at Montbrison, of fresh and pleasing appearance, a
good housekeeper, and of excellent family; and how he--M. Flamaran--had
forthwith started off to find her, had recognized her before she was
pointed out to him, fell in love with her at first sight, and was not
long in obtaining her affection in return. The marriage had taken place
at St. Galmier.

"Yes, my dear Mouillard," he added, as if pointing a moral, "thirty years
ago last May I became a happy man; when do you think of following my
example?"

At this point, Jupille suddenly found himself one too many, and vanished
down the corkscrew stair.

"We once spoke of an heiress at Bourges," M. Flamaran went on.

"Apparently that's all off?"

"Quite off."

"You were within your rights; but now, why not a Parisienne?"

"Yes, indeed; why not?"

"Perhaps you are prejudiced in some way against Parisiennes?"

"I? Not the least."

"I used to be, but I've got over it now. They have a charm of their own,
a certain style of dressing, walking, and laughing which you don't find
outside the fortifications. For a long time I used to think that these
qualities stood them in lieu of virtues. That was a slander; there are
plenty of Parisiennes endowed with every virtue; I even know a few who
are angels."

At this point, M. Flamaran looked me straight in the eyes, and, as I made
no reply, he added:

"I know one, at least: Jeanne Charnot. Are you listening?"

"Yes, Monsieur Flamaran."

"Isn't she a paragon?"

"She is."

"As sensible as she is tender-hearted?"

"So I believe."

"And as clever as she is sensible?"

"That is my opinion."

"Well, then, young man, if that's your opinion--excuse my burning my
boats, all my boats--if that's your opinion, I don't understand why--Do
you suppose she has no money?"

"I know nothing about her means."

"Don't make any mistake; she's a rich woman. Do you think you're too
young to marry?"

"No."

"Do you fancy, perhaps, that she is still bound by that unfortunate
engagement?"

"I trust she is not."

"I'm quite sure she is not. She is free, I tell you,