As she held out her plate to me, I caught a glimpse of her arm, the pretty contours of which disappeared in the lace. "What are you looking up my sleeve for instead of eating?" "I am looking at your arm, dear. You are exquisitely pretty to-night; do you know it? Your hair is wonderfully becoming, and that gown--I had never seen that gown before." "_Dame!_ When a person starts out to make a conquest!" "You are adorable!" "Are you quite sure that I am adorable to-night, charming, ravishing?" Then, looking at her bracelet attentively, "In that case I don't see why--I don't see--" "What is it that you don't see, dear?" "I don't see why you don't come and kiss me." And as the kiss was prolonged, she threw her head back, showing the double row of her pretty white teeth, exclaiming between her peals of laughter,-- "Give me some more _pâté_! I want some more _pâté_! Take care! You are going to break my Bohemian glass, the fruit of my economy! There is always some disaster when you try to kiss me. You remember at Madame de Brill's ball, two nights before we were married, how you tore my gown while we were waltzing in the little parlor?" "Well, but it is very difficult to do two things at once,--keep time with the music and kiss your partner." "I remember when mamma asked me how I tore my gown, I felt that I was blushing up to the roots of my hair. And Madame D., that old yellow witch, said to me with her lenten smile, 'What a brilliant color you have to-night, my child!' I could have choked her! I said I had caught my gown on a nail in the door. I was watching you out of the corner of my eye. You were twirling your mustache, and you seemed quite vexed. You keep all the truffles for yourself,--how nice of you! Not that one; I want that big black one there,--in the corner. Well, after all, it was none the less very wrong, because--no, no, don't fill my glass; I don't want to get tipsy--because if we had not married (that might have happened, you know; they say that marriages hang by a thread), well, if the thread had not been strong enough, here I was left with that kiss on my shoulder,--a pretty plight!" "Nonsense! It does not stain." "Yes, sir, it does; I beg your pardon, but it does stain, and so much so that there are husbands, I am told, who spill their blood to wash out those little stains." "I was only jesting, dear. Heavens! I should think it did! Fancy! Why--" "Ah, I am glad to hear you say so. I like to see you get angry. You are just a wee bit jealous, tell me, are you not? Well, upon my word! I asked you for the big black one, and you are quietly eating it!" "I am very sorry, my love; I beg your pardon. I forgot all about it." "Yes, just as you did when we were being married. I was obliged to touch your elbow to make you answer yes to Monsieur the Mayor's kind words!" "Kind words?"