Her Friend—Not very much! I think that he is much too spare; for, after all, if we do not in this life impose some privations upon ourselves—no, that would be too easy. I hope, indeed, that you have a dispensation?
Madame—Oh! yes, I am safe as to that.
Her Friend—I have one, of course, for butter and eggs, as vice-chancellor of the Association. The Abbe Gelon begged me to accept a complete dispensation on account of my headaches, but I refused. Yes! I refused outright. If one makes a compromise with one’s principles—but then there are people who have no principles.
Madame—If you mean that to apply to my husband, you are wrong. Augustus is not a heathen—he has excellent principles.
Her Friend—Excellent principles! You make my blood boil. But there, I must go. Well, it is understood, I count upon you for Tuesday; he will preach upon authority, a magnificent subject, and we may expect allusions—Ah! I forgot to tell you; I am collecting and I expect your mite, dear. I take as low a sum as a denier (the twelfth of a penny). I have an idea of collecting with my little girl on my praying-stool. Madame de K. collected on Sunday at St. Thomas’s and her baby held the alms-bag. The little Jesus had an immense success—immense!
Madame—I must go now. How will you dress?
Her Friend—Oh! for the present, quite simply and in black; you understand.
Madame—Besides, black becomes you so well.
Her Friend—Yes, everything is for the best; black does not suit me at all ill. Tuesday, then. But my dear, try to bring your husband, he likes music so much.
Madame—Well, I can not promise that.