"That is true, mademoiselle, that is very true; one must know with whom one is dealing." And Dupont, who had prepared his little story in advance, straightened himself up in his chair and continued: "I am an--an American; I was in business, but I have retired; I have money enough to be happy; I am a widower, without children, and therefore at liberty to do exactly as I please." "Very good, monsieur. And your name?" "My name is--Dupont." "Dupont--that is quite a French name; I thought Americans had names more like the English." "That depends on their origin; my family was French. Now that you know who I am, mademoiselle, will you allow me to pay court to you?" "I see no objection--provided that you haven't lied to me; for, I give you fair warning, I hate liars!" Dupont bowed, scratched his head, and rejoined: "You wished to know who I was, mademoiselle, and I have gratified your wish. In my turn, may I be permitted----" "To know who I am! Oh! that is soon told: you already know that my name is Georgette, and that I am an embroiderer. I was born at Toul, a pretty village in Lorraine, near Nancy. My parents are not rich, and I have two sisters, both older than I. My two sisters came to Paris in the hope of being better off here and of being able to help our parents, but they didn't succeed. Poor sisters! Then they came back again to us." "And you have come to Paris in your turn. I am surprised that your parents consented to let you leave them. They might well have been afraid that you would be no more fortunate than your sisters." "Oh! but I was determined to come to Paris; I had made up my mind to do it; and when I make up my mind to do a thing, it's got to be done." "That indicates a strong will." "Yes, monsieur; I have a very strong one." "And since you have been in Paris, have you found it pleasant?" "So-so; not too pleasant! Certainly there are plenty of means of enjoyment in Paris, one has such a choice of pleasures! Plays, balls, promenades, concerts--all of them are delightful to those who can afford such diversions. But when you stay in your chamber all day long, and pass your evening working or reading, you hardly enjoy life in Paris." "That is very true. But what prevents you from enjoying all these amusements that tempt you?" "Can a woman who is all alone go about to plays and promenades?" "No, certainly not; but you can have had no lack of cavaliers ready to offer you their arms." "True; but I don't go with everybody, monsieur; I don't accept the arm of the first comer! Certainly, if I had chosen to listen to all the young men who have followed at my heels and overwhelmed me with their silly declarations of love,--love that seized them all of a sudden when they saw me walk along the street,--I should have had plenty of opportunities! But that isn't what I want!" Dupont caressed his chin, saying to himself: