She dressed very modestly. Dupont had said to himself: "The way to capture a woman is by giving her things to wear, by encouraging her coquetry;" and he had sent the young embroiderer a pretty shawl, a silk dress, and a stylish bonnet. She had accepted his gifts without argument, and had arrayed herself in them that same day to go to the Opéra-Comique with him. But when, after escorting her home at the close of the performance, he had asked permission to go up to her room for a moment, she had shut the door in his face, saying:
"I should think not! it's quite enough to receive you in the daytime."
Mademoiselle Georgette made frequent conquests when she was on Dupont's arm; then our provincial became jealous, for it seemed to him that his companion was distraught at times, and that she paid too much attention to the men who ogled her, and not enough to him.
Then, too, the young woman was very curious; at the play, she would call his attention to a stylishly dressed young dandy and say:
"Do you know the gentleman in that box, just opposite us, with an opera glass in his hand?"
"No; I haven't an idea who he is," Dupont would reply sourly; "I don't know anyone in Paris."
"Ah! to be sure; I forgot that you had just come from America. It's a pity!"
"Why is it a pity?"
"Because you don't know anyone in Paris."
"And even if I did know the young man you refer to, how would that help you?"