r favourite, and her eye fell on
the new decoration.

"Mais--ciel!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. She was a person of
such quick thoughts and impulses that, waiting for no explanation, she
at once took for granted that Susan had given the collar, and poured out
her delighted thanks mingled with caresses. It was really difficult to
get in a word, though Susan several times tried to begin the sentence,
"It's Sophia Jane's present;" but the words were choked by hugs and
kisses, and she said to herself, "I'll tell her presently when she gets
quieter."

This time did not come soon, for even when her first excitement was over
Mademoiselle's spirits continued to be very gay, and she talked without
ceasing; she was unusually happy, she presently told Susan, because
Adolphe had that very day obtained another excellent engagement.

"Figure to yourself," she said, as she carefully took some fresh eggs
out of her basket and laid them on a dish, "how rejoiced I am that his
patience is at length rewarded. As I went out this morning I said to
myself, `Delphine, this occasion demands a little fete of some kind; it
would be well to prepare an omelette au fines herbes for supper.' I
therefore buy fresh eggs in addition to my usual outlay. I return, and
behold! all good things arrive at once. You are here, petite, and have
been so amiable for our cherished Gambetta. He, too, will join the fete
this evening in his charming new toilette, for I have not forgotten to
provide the morsel of liver he loves much."

Susan looked on and listened, and soon became very much interested in
Mademoiselle's preparations. It appeared that as Adolphe was never home
till late they were accustomed to have their principal meal together in
the evening; to-day, however, in honour of her guest, she was bent on
preparing a choice little mid-day repast. First she made some coffee
and put the pot on the hearth to keep warm, and then, Susan having
helped her to lay the table, she proceeded to make a sweet omelette.
This process was most attractive. It was delightful to see how deftly
she shook the handle of the little pan, how she coaxed and patted and
tossed the eggs into the form of an omelette, and how, just at the very
right moment, she hastily removed it into a hot dish, swiftly inserted
the jam, and folded it over. It looked like magic to Susan, and for the
moment it put everything about Sophia Jane out of her head. She soon
thought of her