w what I did to-day? Exactly the same thing as yesterday;
and to-morrow I'll do the same thing as to-day.

"A good dinner is a good thing; but always the same dinner, without
extras or additions--pouah! Too many truffles. I want some
corned beef and cabbage. I know the bill of fare by heart, you see.
In winter, theatres and balls; in summer, races and the seashore;
summer and winter, shopping, rides to the bois, calls, trying
dresses, perpetual adoration by mother's friends, all of them
brilliant and gallant fellows to whom the mere thought of my dowry
gives the jaundice. Excuse me, if I yawn: I am thinking of their
conversations.

"And to think," she went on, "that such will be my existence until
I make up my mind to take a husband! For I'll have to come to it
too. The Baron Three Sixty-eight will present to me some sort of
a swell, attracted by my money. I'll answer, 'I'd just as soon
have him as any other,' and he will be admitted to the honor of
paying his attentions to me. Every morning he will send me a
splendid bouquet: every evening, after bank-hours, he'll come along
with fresh kid gloves and a white vest. During the afternoon, he
and papa will pull each other's hair out on the subject of the dowry.
At last the happy day will arrive. Can't you see it from here?
Mass with music, dinner, ball. The Baron Three Sixty-eight will
not spare me a single ceremony. The marriage of the manager of the
Mutual Credit must certainly be an advertisement. The papers will
publish the names of the bridesmaids and of the guests.

"To be sure, papa will have a face a yard long; because he will
have been compelled to pay the dowry the day before. Mamma will
be all upset at the idea of becoming a grandmother. The
bridegroom will be in a wretched humor, because his boots will be
too tight; and I'll look like a goose, because I'll be dressed
in white; and white is a stupid color, which is not at all becoming
to me. Charming family gathering, isn't it? Two weeks later, my
husband will be sick of me, and I'll be disgusted with him. After
a month, we'll be at daggers' points. He'll go back to his club
and his mistresses; and I--I shall have conquered the right to go
out alone; and I'll begin again going to the bois, to balls, to
races, wherever my mother goes. I'll spend an enormous amount of
money on my dress, and I'll make debts which papa will pay."

Though any thing might be expected of Mlle. Cesarine, still