Her Fiend—Ah! mon Dieu! they are all like that, these men; they are strong-minded, and when grace touches them, they look back on their past life with horror. When my husband speaks of his youth, the tears come into his eyes. I must tell you; that he has not always been as he is now; he was a gay boy in his youth, poor fellow. I do not detest a man because he knows life a little, do you? But I am gossiping and time passes; I have a call to make yet on Madame W. I do not know whether she has found her juvenile lead.
Madame—What for, in Heaven’s name?
Her Friend—For her evening party. There are to be private theatricals at her house, but for a pious object, you may be sure, during Lent; it is so as to have a collection on behalf of the Association. I must fly. Good-by, dear.
Madame—Till Tuesday, dear; in full uniform?
Her Friend—(smiling)—In full uniform. Kind regards to your reprobate. I like him very much all the same. Good-by.
CHAPTER VI. A DREAM
Sleeplessness is almost always to be traced to indigestion. My friend, Dr. Jacques, is there and he will tell you so.
Now, on that particular evening, it was last Friday, I had committed the mistake of eating brill, a fish that positively disagrees with me.
God grant that the account of the singular dream which ensued may inspire you with some prudent reflections.