"To-night, mama? Really, I don't know. I might put the gray on—or the blue—or the rose."
"No, no; not the rose. Put the blue on. You looked quite nice in it the day before yesterday at Aunt Clarice's. Besides, your papa doesn't like the rose, and as he is going with us to the Mercerey's—"
"Papa going to the Mercerey's!"
"Yes, certainly."
"Does he know that there's to be some music?"
"Yes."
"He knows—and yet he is going?"
"Yes. What is there surprising in that?"
"Oh, nothing, mama; nothing at all."
Whereupon she really left the room, and I was quite alone. Then, without a moment's hesitation, I said to myself: "A marriage on the tapis. They're going to show me off to some one. That's why pap is obliged to go."