the Gaiete, or the Porte St. Martin!"

"You can see the house by peeping behind the curtain."

"As if I were ashamed to be seen! _Par exemple_!"

"Nay, as you please. I only advise you according to custom and fashion."

Josephine pouted, and unwillingly conceded a couple of inches.

"I wish I had brought the little telescope you gave me last Sunday,"
said she, presently. "There is a gentleman with one down there in
the stalls."

"A telescope at the opera--the gods forbid! Here, however, is my
opera-glass, if you like to use it."

Josephine turned it over curiously, and peeped first through one tube
and then through the other.

"Which ought I to look through?" asked she.

"Both, of course."

"Both! How can I?"

"Why thus--as you look through a pair of spectacles."

"_Ciel!_ I can't manage that! I can never look through anything without
covering up one eye with my hand."

"Then I think you had better be contented with your own charming eyes,
_ma belle_" said I, nervously. "How do you like your bouquet?"

Josephine sniffed at it as if she were taking snuff, and pronounced it
perfect. Just then the opera began. I withdrew into the shade, and
Josephine was silenced for a while in admiration of the scenery and the
dresses. By and by, she began to yawn.

"Ah, _mon Dieu!_" said she, "when will they have done singing? I have
not heard a word all this time."

"But everything is sung, _ma chere_, in an opera."

"What do you mean? Is there no play?"

"This is the play; only instead of speaking their words, they sing
them."

Josephine shrugged her shoulders.

"Ah, bah!" said she. "How stupid! I had rather have seen the _Closerie
des Genets_ at the Graiete, if that is to be the case the whole evening.
Oh, dear! there is such a pretty lady come into the opposite box, in
such a beautiful blue _glace_, trimmed with black velvet and lace!"

"Hush! you must not talk while they are singing!"

"_Tiens!_ it is no pleasure to come out and be dumb. But do just see the
lady in the opposite box! She looks exactly as if she had walked out of
a fashion-book."

"My dear child, I don't care one pin to look at her," said I, preferring
to keep as much out of sight as possible. "To admire your pretty face is
enough for me."

Josephine squeezed my hand affectionately.

"That is just as Emile used to talk to me," said she.

I felt by no means flattered.

"_Regardez done!_" said she, pulling me by the sleeve, just as I w