"Sir," said he, quite out of breath, "the artist on the sixth floor has money. You know the tall fellow who laughs in my face when I take him his bill?" "Yes," said the landlord, "the one who had the imprudence to borrow money of me to pay me something on account with. He is under notice to quit." "Yes sir. But he is rolling in gold today. I caught sight of it just now. He is giving a party. It is a good time--" "You are right," said the landlord. "I will go up and see for myself by-and-by." Madame Sidonie, who was at home when Marcel's letter was brought, sent on her maid at once with the one intended for Musette. The latter was then residing in a charming suite of rooms in the Chaussee d'Antin. At the moment Marcel's letter was handed to her, she had company, and, indeed, was going to give a grand dinner party that evening. "Here is a miracle," she exclaimed, laughing like a mad thing. "What is it?" asked a handsome young fellow, as stiff as a statuette. "It is an invitation to dinner," replied the girl. "How well it falls out." "How badly," said the young man. "Why so?" asked Musette. "What, do you think of going?" "I should think so. Arrange things as you please." "But, my dear, it is not becoming. You can go another time." "Ah, that is very good, another time. It is an old acquaintance, Marcel, who invites me to dinner, and that is sufficiently extraordinary for me to go and have a look at it. Another time! But real dinners in that house are as rare as eclipses." "What, you would break your pledge to us to go and see this individual," said the young man, "and you tell me so--" "Whom do you want me to tell it to, then? To the Grand Turk? It does not concern him." "This is strange frankness." "You know very well that I do nothing like other people." "But what would you think of me if I let you go, knowing where you are going to? Think a bit, Musette, it is very unbecoming both to you and myself; you must ask this young fellow to excuse you--" "My dear Monsieur Maurice," said Mademoiselle Musette, in very firm tones, "you knew me before you took up with me, you knew that I was full of whims and fancies, and that no living soul can boast of ever having made me give one up." "Ask of me whatever you like," said Maurice, "but this! There are fancies and fancies."