these
purchases of yours are so much rubbish! Malignon calls your Japanese
museum 'the sixpenny bazaar.' Oh, by the way, talking of him, I met
him. He was with a lady, and such a lady--Florence, of the Varietes
Theatre."

"Where was it?" asked Juliette immediately. "How I shall tease him!"

"On the boulevards. He's coming here to-day, is he not?"

She was not vouchsafed any reply. The ladies had all at once become
uneasy owing to the disappearance of the children, and called to them.
However, two shrill voices immediately answered:

"We are here!"

Half hidden by a spindle tree, they were sitting on the grass in the
middle of the lawn.

"What are you about?"

"We have put up at an inn," answered Lucien. "We are resting in our
room."

Greatly diverted, the women watched them for a time. Jeanne seemed
quite contented with the game. She was cutting the grass around her,
doubtless with the intention of preparing breakfast. A piece of wood,
picked up among the shrubs, represented a trunk. And now they were
talking. Jeanne, with great conviction in her tone, was declaring that
they were in Switzerland, and that they would set out to see the
glaciers, which rather astonished Lucien.

"Ha, here he is!" suddenly exclaimed Pauline.

Madame Deberle turned, and caught sight of Malignon descending the
steps. He had scarcely time to make his bow and sit down before she
attacked him.

"Oh," she said, "it is nice of you to go about everywhere saying that
I have nothing but rubbishy ornaments about me!"

"You mean this little saloon of yours? Oh yes," said he, quite at his
ease. "You haven't anything worth looking at here!"

"What! not my china figure?" she asked, quite hurt.

"No, no, everything is quite _bourgeois_. It is necessary for a person
to have some taste. You wouldn't allow me to select the things--"

"Your taste, forsooth! just talk about your taste!" she retorted,
flushing crimson and feeling quite angry. "You have been seen with a
lady--"

"What lady?" he asked, surprised by the violence of the attack.

"A fine choice, indeed! I compliment you on it. A girl whom the whole
of Paris knows--"

She suddenly paused, remembering Pauline's presence.

"Pauline," she said, "go into the garden for a minute."

"Oh no," retorted the girl indignantly. "It's so tiresome; I'm always
being sent out of the way."

"Go into the garden," repeated Juliette, with increased severity in
her tone.

The girl stalked o