took aside
the royal ambassador-to-be at the court of Spain, my much respected
father, and said to him with a smile:

"Sir, some of your friends will have it that you are marrying your dear
Armande to the nephew of an ambassador who has been very anxious
for this connection, and has long begged for it. Also, that the
marriage-contract arranges for his nephew to succeed on his death to his
enormous fortune and his title, and bestows on the young couple in the
meantime an income of a hundred thousand livres, on the bride a dowry
of eight hundred thousand francs. Your daughter weeps, but bows to the
unquestioned authority of her honored parent. Some people are unkind
enough to say that, behind her tears, she conceals a worldly and
ambitious soul.

"Now, we are going to the gentleman's box at the Opera to-night, and M.
le Baron de Macumer will visit us there."

"Macumer needs a touch of the spur then," said my father, smiling at me,
as though I were a female ambassador.

"You mistake Clarissa Harlowe for Figaro!" I cried, with a glance of
scorn and mockery. "When you see me with my right hand ungloved,
you will give the lie to this impertinent gossip, and will mark your
displeasure at it."

"I may make my mind easy about your future. You have no more got a
girl's headpiece than Jeanne d'Arc had a woman's heart. You will be
happy, you will love nobody, and will allow yourself to be loved."

This was too much. I burst into laughter.

"What is it, little flirt?" he said.

"I tremble for my country's interests..."

And seeing him look quite blank, I added:

"At Madrid!"

"You have no idea how this little nun has learned, in a year's time, to
make fun of her father," he said to the Duchess.

"Armande makes light of everything," my mother replied, looking me in
the face.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Why, you are not even afraid of rheumatism on these damp nights," she
said, with another meaning glance at me.

"Oh!" I answered, "the mornings are so hot!"

The Duchess looked down.

"It's high time she were married," said my father, "and it had better be
before I go."

"If you wish it," I replied demurely.

Two hours later, my mother and I, the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse and Mme.
d'Espard, were all four blooming like roses in the front of the box. I
had seated myself sideways, giving only a shoulder to the house, so that
I could see everything, myself unseen, in that spacious box which fills
one of the t