ubrette.

"You!" screamed Madame Deberle, in astonishment. "You won't appear in
costume at all! Do you think yourself a child, you great stupid? You
will oblige me by coming in a white dress."

"Oh, but it would have pleased me so!" exclaimed Pauline, who, despite
her eighteen years and plump girlish figure, liked nothing better than
to romp with a band of little ones.

Meanwhile Helene sat at the foot of her tree working away, and raising
her head at times to smile at the doctor and Monsieur Rambaud, who
stood in front of her conversing. Monsieur Rambaud had now become
quite intimate with the Deberle family.

"Well," said the doctor, "and how are you going to dress, Jeanne?"

He got no further, for Malignon burst out: "I've got it! I've got it!
Lucien must be a marquis of the time of Louis XV."

He waved his cane with a triumphant air; but, as no one of the company
hailed his idea with enthusiasm, he appeared astonished. "What, don't
you see it? Won't it be for Lucien to receive his little guests? So
you place him, dressed as a marquis, at the drawing-room door, with a
large bouquet of roses on his coat, and he bows to the ladies."

"But there will be dozens of marquises at the ball!" objected
Juliette.

"What does that matter?" replied Malignon coolly. "The more marquises
the greater the fun. I tell you it is the best thing you can hit upon.
The master of the house must be dressed as a marquis, or the ball will
be a complete failure."

Such was his conviction of his scheme's success that at last it was
adopted by Juliette with enthusiasm. As a matter of fact, a dress in
the Pompadour style, white satin embroidered with posies, would be
altogether charming.

"And what about Jeanne?" again asked the doctor.

The little girl had just buried her head against her mother's shoulder
in the caressing manner so characteristic of her; and as an answer was
about to cross Helene's lips, she murmured:

"Oh! mamma, you know what you promised me, don't you?"

"What was it?" asked those around her.

Then, as her daughter gave her an imploring look, Helene laughingly
replied: "Jeanne does not wish her dress to be known."

"Yes, that's so," said the child; "you don't create any effect when
you tell your dress beforehand."

Every one was tickled with this display of coquetry, and Monsieur
Rambaud thought he might tease the child about it. For some time past
Jeanne had been ill-tempered with him, and the poor man, at