"Bravo, my dear!" cried the colonel, laughing boisterously.

And joining in chorus with Pradeline, he sang, also clinking his glass with the edge of his knife:

"When some gay lover pleases me,
'Tis quickly done! He pleases me.
La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla-fla-fla-fla,
La rifla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla."

"And now, my little girl," he proceeded to say at the close of the refrain, "since you are not jealous, give me some advice—some friendly advice. I am in love—desperately in love."

"Is it possible!"

"If she were a woman of the world I would not ask your advice, but—"

"Well! Well! Am I, perchance, not a woman? and of the world, too?"

"Of all the world, not true, my dear?"

"Naturally, seeing I'm here—which is little to your credit, my dear, and less creditable to me. But that matters not. Proceed, and don't be rude again—if you can avoid it."

"Oh! The little one gives me a lesson in politeness!"