an we!

At length the clock on the mantelpiece warned us that it was already
half-past nine, and that we had been three hours at dinner. It was
clearly time to vary the evening's amusement in some way or other, and
the only question was what next to do? Should we go to a billiard-room?
Or to the Salle Valentinois? Or to some of the cheap theatres on the
Boulevard du Temple? Or to the Tableaux Vivants? Or the Cafe des
Aveugles? Or take a drive round by the Champs Elysees in an open fly?

At length Mueller remembered that some fellow-students were giving a
party that evening, and offered to introduce us.

"It is up five pairs of stairs, in the Quartier Latin," said he; "but
thoroughly jolly--all students and grisettes. They'll be delighted
to see us."

This admirable proposition was no sooner made than acted upon; so we
started immediately, and Dalrymple, who seemed to be well acquainted
with the usages of student-life, proposed that we should take with us a
store of sweetmeats for the ladies.

"There subsists," observed he, "a mysterious elective affinity between
the grisette and the chocolate bon-bon. He who can skilfully exhibit the
latter, is almost certain to win the heart of the former. Where the
chocolate fails, however, the _marron glace_ is an infallible specific.
I recommend that we lay in a liberal supply of both weapons."

"Carried by acclamation," said Mueller. "We can buy them on our way, in
the Rue Vivienne. A capital shop; but one that I never patronize--they
give no credit."

Chatting thus, and laughing, we made our way across the Boulevard and
through a net-work of by-streets into the Rue Vivienne, where we laid
siege to a great bon-bon shop--a gigantic depot for dyspepsia at so
much per kilogramme--and there filled our pockets with sweets of every
imaginable flavor and color. This done, a cab conveyed us in something
less than ten minutes across the Pont Neuf to the Quartier Latin.

Mueller's friends were three in number, and all students--one of art, one
of law, and one of medicine. They lodged at the top of a dingy house
near the Odeon, and being very great friends and very near neighbors
were giving this entertainment conjointly. Their names were Gustave,
Jules, and Adrien. Adrien was the artist, and lived in the garret, just
over the heads of Gustave and Jules, which made it very convenient for a
party, and placed a _suite_ of rooms at the disposal of their visitors.

Long before we had ac