"Yes, we decide."

In the meantime I had slipped the thirty-five francs into the dealer's
hand.

"You must do me the favor to accept the clock as a wedding-present,
Mademoiselle Josephine," I said. "And I hope you will favor me with an
invitation to the wedding."

"And me also," said Mueller; "and I shall hope to be allowed to offer a
little sketch to adorn the walls of your new home."

Their delight and gratitude were almost too great. We shook hands again
all round. I am not sure, indeed, that Josephine did not then and there
embrace us both for the second time.

"And you will both come to our wedding!" cried she. "And we will spend
the day at St. Cloud, and have a dance in the evening; and we will
invite Monsieur Gustave, and Monsieur Jules, and Monsieur Adrien. Oh,
dear! how delightful it will be!"

"And you promise me the first quadrille?" said I.

"And me the second?" added Mueller.

"Yes, yes--as many as you please."

"Then you must let us know at what time to come, and all about it; so,
till Friday week, adieu!"

And thus, with more shaking of hands, and thanks, and good wishes, we
parted company, leaving them still occupied with the gilt Cupid and the
furniture-broker.

After the dense atmosphere of the clothes-market, it is a relief to
emerge upon the Boulevart du Temple--the noisy, feverish, crowded
Boulevart du Temple, with its half dozen theatres, its glare of gas, its
cake-sellers, bill-sellers, lemonade-sellers, cabs, cafes, gendarmes,
tumblers, grisettes, and pleasure-seekers of both sexes.

Here we pause awhile to applaud the performances of a company of
dancing-dogs, whence we are presently drawn away by the sight of a
gentleman in a _moyen-age_ costume, who is swallowing penknives and
bringing them out at his ears to the immense gratification of a large
circle of bystanders.

A little farther on lies the Jardin Turc; and here we drop in for half
an hour, to restore ourselves with coffee-ices, and look on at the
dancers. This done, we presently issue forth again, still in search of
amusement.

"Have you ever been to the Petit Lazary?" asks my friend, as we stand at
the gate of the Jardin Turc, hesitating which way to turn.

"Never; what is it?"

"The most inexpensive of theatrical luxuries--an evening's entertainment
of the mildest intellectual calibre, and at the lowest possible cost.
Here we are at the doors. Come in, and complete your experience of
Paris life!"

The Petit