of her dressing-room looks on to the window of mine."

"They say she is a charming girl."

"Don't you know her?"

"No, but I should like to."

"Shall I ask her to come over to our box?"

"No, I would rather for you to introduce me to her."

"At her own house?"

"Yes.

"That is more difficult."

"Why?"

"Because she is under the protection of a jealous old duke."

"'Protection' is charming."

"Yes, protection," replied Prudence. "Poor old man, he would be greatly
embarrassed to offer her anything else."

Prudence then told me how Marguerite had made the acquaintance of the
duke at Bagneres.

"That, then," I continued, "is why she is alone here?"

"Precisely."

"But who will see her home?"

"He will."

"He will come for her?"

"In a moment."

"And you, who is seeing you home?"

"No one."

"May I offer myself?"

"But you are with a friend, are you not?"

"May we offer, then?"

"Who is your friend?"

"A charming fellow, very amusing. He will be delighted to make your
acquaintance."

"Well, all right; we will go after this piece is over, for I know the
last piece."

"With pleasure; I will go and tell my friend."

"Go, then. Ah," added Prudence, as I was going, "there is the duke just
coming into Marguerite's box."

I looked at him. A man of about seventy had sat down behind her, and was
giving her a bag of sweets, into which she dipped at once, smiling. Then
she held it out toward Prudence, with a gesture which seemed to say,
"Will you have some?"

"No," signalled Prudence.

Marguerite drew back the bag, and, turning, began to talk with the duke.

It may sound childish to tell you all these details, but everything
relating to Marguerite is so fresh in my memory that I can not help
recalling them now.

I went back to Gaston and told him of the arrangement I had made for
him and for me. He agreed, and we left our stalls to go round to Mme.
Duvernoy's box. We had scarcely opened the door leading into the stalls
when we had to stand aside to allow Marguerite and the duke to pass.
I would have given ten years of my life to have been in the old man's
place.

When they were on the street he handed her into a phaeton, which he
drove himself, and they were whirled away by two superb horses.

We returned to Prudence's box, and when the play was over we took a cab
and drove to 7, Rue d'Antin. At the door, Prudence asked us to come up
and see her showrooms, which we had never seen, an