r, taking care that it should fall at
such a distance as to oblige her to leave her cushion to get it. This
test would decide whether she was most inclined to laziness or
greediness. Mirza remained an instant uncertain, but then greediness
carried the day, and she went across the room to fetch the piece of
sugar, which had rolled under the harpsichord. At this moment a third
piece fell near the window, and Mirza came toward it; but there the
liberality of the chevalier stopped; he thought that he had now given
enough to require some return, and he contented himself with calling
Mirza in a more imperative tone, and showing her the other pieces of
sugar which he held in his hand.

Mirza this time, instead of looking at the chevalier with uneasiness or
disdain, rested her paws on the window, and began to behave as she would
to an old acquaintance. It was finished; Mirza was tamed.

The chevalier remarked that it was now his turn to play the contemptuous
with Mirza, and to speak to her, in order to accustom her to his voice;
however, fearing a return of pride on the part of his interlocutor, who
sustained her part in the dialogue by little whines and grumblings, he
threw her a fourth piece of sugar, which she seized with greater avidity
from having been kept waiting. This time, without being called, she came
to take her place at the window. The chevalier's triumph was complete.
So complete, that Mirza, who the day before had given signs of so
superior an intelligence in discovering Bathilde's return, and in
running to the door as she descended the staircase, this time discovered
neither the one nor the other, so that her mistress, entering all at
once, surprised her in the midst of these coquetries with her neighbor.
It is but just to say, however, that at the noise the door made in
opening Mirza turned, and recognizing Bathilde, bounded toward her,
lavishing on her the most tender caresses; but we must add, to the shame
of the species, that this duty once accomplished, she hastened back to
the window. This unusual action on the part of the dog naturally guided
Bathilde's eyes toward the cause which occasioned it. Her eyes met those
of the chevalier.

Bathilde blushed: the chevalier bowed; and Bathilde, without knowing
what she was doing, returned the salute.

Her first impulse was to go and close the window, but an instinctive
feeling restrained her. She understood that this was giving importance
to a thing which had n