d the tax-collector, _Madame_ asked
Monsieur Vasse to take her in his arms, and the two couples turned
round, kissing as they danced. Monsieur Vasse, who had formerly danced
in good society, waltzed with such elegance, that _Madame_ was quite
captivated.

Frederic brought the champagne; the first cork popped, and Monsieur
Philippe played the introduction to a quadrille, through which the four
dancers walked in society fashion, decorously, with propriety,
deportment, bows and curtsies, and then they began to drink.

Monsieur Philippe next struck up a lively polka, and Monsieur Tournevau
started off with the handsome Jewess, whom he held up in the air,
without letting her feet touch the ground. Monsieur Pinipesse and
Monsieur Vasse had started off with renewed vigor, and from time to time
one or other couple would stop to toss off a long glass of sparkling
wine, and that dance was threatening to become never-ending, when Rosa
opened the door.

"I want to dance," she exclaimed. And she caught hold of Monsieur
Dupuis, who was sitting idle on the couch, and the dance began again.

But the bottles were empty. "I will pay for one," Monsieur said. "So
will I," Monsieur Vasse declared. "And I will do the same," Monsieur
Dupuis remarked.

They all began to clap their hands, and it soon became a regular ball,
and from time to time, Louise and Flora ran upstairs quickly, had a few
turns, while their customers downstairs grew impatient, and then they
returned regretfully to the _cafe_. At midnight they were still dancing.

_Madame_ shut her eyes to what was going on and she had long private
talks in corners with Monsieur Vasse, as if to settle the last details
of something that had already been settled.

At last, at one o'clock, the two married men, Monsieur Tournevau and
Monsieur Pinipesse declared that they were going home, and wanted to
pay. Nothing was charged for except the champagne, and that only cost
six francs a bottle, instead of ten, which was the usual price, and when
they expressed their surprise at such generosity, _Madame_, who was
beaming, said to them:

"We don't have a holiday every day."

THE BANDMASTER'S SISTER

"What a joke!" the bandmaster said, twirling his moustache with the
foolish smile of a good-looking man, who dangles after women's
petticoats, in order that he may get on all the quicker.

His comrades' equivocal allusions puzzled him, though they flattered him
like applause, and he