longs to taste.

They are already women--in fact, they were when they were born--but
still one guesses at their motives, reads their little thoughts:
sometimes, too, one finds a clue which is like a revelation. They are--

But pardon me, young ladies! I am afraid I am going too far: perhaps as
you turn over these pages you will recall the gentleman who was looking
at you so attentively the other evening. Perhaps you will recognize
yourselves, however imperfect the sketch may be, and then--But it is too
late now not to tell you all.

I slyly opened the library-door, and, turning to the left, I made my way
to the conservatory, and stationed myself directly behind you, near the
door, in the folds of the curtain, and there I heard it all. I did even
more than that: in coming away I snapped off a branch of camellia. What
follows is merely the work of a reporter: if memory or skill is lacking,
forgive me and I will do better another time.

"No," said the youngest, looking at her pink satin slipper, "I mean the
one with the decoration in his buttonhole: don't you see him? He is
standing by the mantelpiece, by the side of the big bald man in a white
waistcoat."

"Why, the big bald man is not a colonel--no indeed. I know him very
well: he comes to see papa. It's Mr. Thingamy--some queer name. After
every visit of his we find two casters off the easy-chair. Mamma says
he's clever, papa says he's not: as for me, I think he smells of
pomade."

"Where does he put his pomade? He has hardly three hairs on his head."

"Yes, but they curl, my dear. I am sure he ought to wear a little
crimson velvet cap with tassels. Dear me! how I do hate a man as fat as
that! Papa, who is slender in comparison with this bear, seems to me a
little--when he is shaving--Well, if it was not papa, I should like to
plane him down a little."

"But, girls, I don't mean the stout one: I mean the one by his side,
with an aquiline nose and moustaches. There, he is taking an ice. He
seems to be a lion. Now he's blowing his nose: he's Colonel C----."

"Oh yes, I see. Dear me! how hard he blows his nose! Your colonel has a
cold: one can hear him from here--ha! ha!"

"There is nothing strange in his having a cold: he has just come from
Africa: see how tanned he is. Well, my dear, he _is_ a lion."

"Then he is an attache?"

"Oh, how stupid you are! I said he is a lion because he fought like a
tiger, and he--"

"Then say he is a tiger, and have done wit