"But you are crazy," replied Madame de ----, blushing deeply, and glancing towards me; "you know how I perfectly detest such gossip, especially when it is about one of my best friends; for my affection for Marguerite dates from our childhood." She said this very meaningly. "One of your best friends! Ah, that is charming, ah, yes," replied this stupid man, who understood nothing. "One of your best friends, 'tis very good! But then, you know they say, 'Who loves well chastises well,' and you used to tell me hundreds of entertaining tales about her, each one more spiteful than the other." Madame de ----'s embarrassment was so great that I took pity on her. "Then I am not the only one that you have attempted to draw into that trap," I said to her, laughing. "A trap?" said the newcomer. "A trap, monsieur," I answered, "a trap baited with malice, into which even I, who am one of Madame de Pënâfiel's sincerest and most devoted friends, had almost fallen." "Ah, do you believe me capable of such treachery?" replied Madame de ----, smiling, but not understanding my meaning. "Certainly, madame, I think you are, for it is an excellent way of discovering our friends' partisans; you pretend to have heard some dreadful scandal concerning an intimate friend, and, according to the way your acquaintances defend or attack the truth of your statement, you can judge of their kindly or inimical feelings; so that afterwards, when your friend hears their protestations of affection, she will be able to accept them at their true value." "Ah, you are terribly indiscreet," said Madame de ----, with the pretence of a smile. The newcomer from Italy was quite astounded. Another visitor entering, I went out. At ten o'clock I went to Marguerite's. I hoped I should have to wait for her, for I find it delightful to be for awhile alone, and dreamily enjoy the quiet of a salon in which the beloved one passes so much of her life, and then to see it suddenly illumined by her presence. But I had not this pleasure, for she was already there and waiting for me. This victory that I had won over the important and pleasing duties of the toilet, this delicate and unusual attention of being ready to receive me, gave me the greatest delight. Marguerite was adorable. She wore a dress of pale green moire, trimmed with lace and bows of rose-coloured ribbon, from the centre of which blossomed great pink roses. One of these flowers was in the corsage, and another one in her hair. She brought me one of her bracelets to fasten for her, which I did, but not without imprinting a kiss on that beautiful arm so white and round. I wished her to tell me her great secret of the first of May, but she said that this springtime of hope must still remain a mystery.