, and he on her."

"They must lead a gay life."

"Sometimes I ask myself where the devil Sleepinbuff gets all the money he
spends. It appears that he pays all last night's expenses, three
coaches-and-four, and a breakfast this morning for twenty, at ten francs
a-head."

"They say he has come into some property. That's why Ninny Moulin, who
has a good nose for eating and drinking, made acquaintance with him last
night--leaving out of the question that he may have some designs on the
Bacchanal Queen."

"He! In a lot! He's rather too ugly. The girls like to dance with him
because he makes people laugh--but that's all. Little Rose-Pompon, who is
such a pretty creature, has taken him as a harmless chap-her-own, in the
absence of her student."

"The coaches! the coaches!" exclaimed the crowd, all with one voice.

Forced to stop in the midst of the maskers, Mother Bunch had not lost a
word of this conversation, which was deeply painful to her, as it
concerned her sister, whom she had not seen for a long time. Not that the
Bacchanal Queen had a bad heart; but the sight of the wretched poverty of
Mother Bunch--a poverty which she had herself shared, but which she had
not had the strength of mind to bear any longer--caused such bitter grief
to the gay, thoughtless girl, that she would no more expose herself to
it, after she had in vain tried to induce her sister to accept
assistance, which the latter always refused, knowing that its source
could not be honorable.

"The coaches! the coaches!" once more exclaimed the crowd, as they
pressed forward with enthusiasm, so that Mother Bunch, carried on against
her will, was thrust into the foremost rank of the people assembled to
see the show.

It was, indeed, a curious sight. A man on horseback, disguised as a
postilion, his blue jacket embroidered with silver, and enormous tail
from which the powder escaped in puffs, and a hat adorned with long
ribbons, preceded the first carriage, cracking his whip, and crying with
all his might: "Make way for the Bacchanal Queen and her court!"

In an open carriage, drawn by four lean horses, on which rode two old
postilions dressed as devils, was raised a downright pyramid of men and
women, sitting, standing, leaning, in every possible variety of odd,
extravagant, and grotesque costume; altogether an indescribable mass of
bright colors, flowers, ribbons, tinsel and spangles. Amid this heap of
strange forms and dresses appeared wild or gra