old, and your head is bald,
resembling a bare knee in the middle of a gray wig.

III.--A dowry of three hundred thousand.

IV.--Caroline's only sister, a little dunce of twelve, a sickly child,
who bids fair to fill an early grave.

V.--Your own fortune, father-in-law (in certain kinds of society they
say _papa father-in-law_) yielding an income of twenty thousand, and
which will soon be increased by an inheritance.

VI.--Your wife's fortune, which will be increased by two inheritances
--from her uncle and her grandfather. In all, thus:

Three inheritances and interest, 750,000
Your fortune, 250,000
Your wife's fortune, 250,000
__________

Total, 1,250,000

which surely cannot take wing!

Such is the autopsy of all those brilliant marriages that conduct
their processions of dancers and eaters, in white gloves, flowering at
the button-hole, with bouquets of orange flowers, furbelows, veils,
coaches and coach-drivers, from the magistrate's to the church, from
the church to the banquet, from the banquet to the dance, from the
dance to the nuptial chamber, to the music of the orchestra and the
accompaniment of the immemorial pleasantries uttered by relics of
dandies, for are there not, here and there in society, relics of
dandies, as there are relics of English horses? To be sure, and such
is the osteology of the most amorous intent.

The majority of the relatives have had a word to say about this
marriage.

Those on the side of the bridegroom:

"Adolphe has made a good thing of it."

Those on the side of the bride:

"Caroline has made a splendid match. Adolphe is an only son, and will
have an income of sixty thousand, _some day or other_!"

Some time afterwards, the happy judge, the happy engineer, the happy
captain, the happy lawyer, the happy only son of a rich landed
proprietor, in short Adolphe, comes to dine with you, accompanied by
his family.

Your daughter Caroline is exceedingly proud of the somewhat rounded
form of her waist. All women display an innocent artfulness, the first
time they find themselves facing motherhood. Like a soldier who makes
a brilliant toilet for his first battle, they love to play the pale,
the suffering; they rise in a certain manner, and walk with the
prettiest affectation. While yet flowers, they bear a fruit; they
enjoy their maternity by anticip