d on a raised
cushion before her. Her looks seemed to say, 'Come here, and let us
have some conversation together;' and, with a bow of silent excuse to
my little companion, I went across to the lame old lady. She
acknowledged my coming with the prettiest gesture of thanks possible;
and, half apologetically, said, 'It is a little dull to be unable to
move about on such evenings as this; but it is a just punishment to me
for my early vanities. My poor feet, that were by nature so small, are
now taking their revenge for my cruelty in forcing them into such
little slippers ... Besides, monsieur,' with a pleasant smile, 'I
thought it was possible you might be weary of the malicious sayings of
your little neighbour. He has not borne the best character in his
youth, and such men are sure to be cynical in their old age.'

'Who is he?' asked I, with English abruptness.

'His name is Poucet, and his father was, I believe, a woodcutter, or
charcoal burner, or something of the sort. They do tell sad stories of
connivance at murder, ingratitude, and obtaining money on false
pretences--but you will think me as bad as he if I go on with my
slanders. Rather let us admire the lovely lady coming up towards us,
with the roses in her hand--I never see her without roses, they are so
closely connected with her past history, as you are doubtless aware.
Ah, beauty!' said my companion to the lady drawing near to us, 'it is
like you to come to me, now that I can no longer go to you.' Then
turning to me, and gracefully drawing me into the conversation, she
said, 'You must know that, although we never met until we were both
married, we have been almost like sisters ever since. There have been
so many points of resemblance in our circumstances, and I think I may
say in our characters. We had each two elder sisters--mine were but
half-sisters, though--who were not so kind to us as they might have
been.'

'But have been sorry for it since,' put in the other lady.

'Since we have married princes,' continued the same lady, with an arch
smile that had nothing of unkindness in it, 'for we both have married
far above our original stations in life; we are both unpunctual in our
habits, and, in consequence of this failing of ours, we have both had
to suffer mortification and pain.'

'And both are charming,' said a whisper close behind me. 'My lord the
marquis, say it--say, "And both are charming."'

'And both are charming,' was spoken aloud by anothe