own apothegm.

"Precisely, but then they wear their rue, or cause you to wear yours,
'with a difference.' This girl, however, escapes the monotony of her sex
by one or two peculiarities:--she has not a bit of art about her, nor a
shred of coquetry. She is as simple and as straightforward as an
Arcadian. She doesn't even know when she is being made love to, or
understand what you mean, when you pay her a compliment."

"Then she's a phenomenon--and what man in his senses would fall in love
with a phenomenon?"

"Every man, _mon cher enfant_, who falls in love at all! The woman we
worship is always a phenomenon, whether of beauty, or grace, or
virtue--till we find her out; and then, probably, she becomes a
phenomenon of deceit, or slovenliness, or bad temper! And now, to return
to the point we started from--will you go with me to Madame Marotte's
tea-party to-morrow evening at eight? Don't say 'No,' there's a
good fellow."

"I'll certainly not say No, if you particularly want me to say Yes," I
replied, "but--"

"Prythee, no buts! Let it be Yes, and the thing is settled. So--here we
are. Won't you come in and smoke a pipe with me? I've a bottle of
capital Rhenish in the cupboard."

We had met near the Odeon, and, as our roads lay in the same direction,
had gone on walking and talking till we came to Mueller's own door in the
Rue Clovis. I accepted the invitation, and followed him in. The
_portiere_, a sour-looking, bent old woman with a very dirty duster tied
about her head, hobbled out from her little dark den at the foot of the
stairs, and handed him the key of his apartment.

"_Tiens_!" said she, "wait a moment--there's a parcel for you, M'sieur
Mueller."

And so, hobbling back again, she brought out a small flat brown
paper-packet sealed at both ends.

"Ah, I see--from the Emperor!" said Mueller. "Did he bring it himself,
Madame Duphot, or did he send it by the Archbishop of Paris?"

A faint grin flitted over the little old woman's withered face.

"Get along with you, M'sieur Mueller," she said. "You're always playing
the _farceur_! The parcel was brought by a man who looked like a
stonemason."

"And nobody has called?"

"Nobody, except M'sieur Richard."

"Monsieur Richard's visits are always gratifying and delightful--may
the _diable_ fly away with him!" said Mueller. "What did dear Monsieur
Richard want to-day, Madame Duphot?"

"He wanted to see you, and the third-floor gentleman also--about the
re