"Madame, I judged you ill, that is true. I did treat your sister Aimée somewhat inconsiderately, and you have repaired my neglect, my fault. We men are drawn on by the current of business and pleasure, and are sometimes at fault when we do not mean to be. Present my compliments to your sister. Here is the little petticoat that became you so well!" "But why am I mixed up in this affair, madame, I who never seduced any of your sisters?" "You, monsieur," replied Georgette, with a smile--"I took you at first for an honorable, loyal man, whose arm I could accept without fear, for I was alone in Paris. I did not then know the addresses of these gentlemen, which my sisters succeeded in obtaining for me later. I wanted to go to the play and to the fashionable promenades, hoping to discover, to meet there, the persons I was absolutely determined to find." "I understand; you used me as an escort." "Something like it, monsieur. As for your love, that didn't frighten me. When I learned that you had lied to me, that you were married, as it was a matter of perfect indifference to me, I might have forgiven you; but you attempted to take most unbecoming liberties with me! So then, monsieur, I left you without ceremony, abandoning in your hands a little petticoat--which you have brought to me, I hope?" "Yes, madame, here it is." And Dupont, hanging his head rather sheepishly, produced his little parcel and handed it to Georgette. She took it and gave it to her husband; then she rose, and, with a graceful courtesy to the three men who had been in love with her, said: "Now that I am rehabilitated in your eyes, messieurs, it remains for me only to wish you whatever may be most agreeable to you." And, after bowing once more, Georgette took her husband's arm and walked away with him. Her three ex-lovers looked after her, and the viscount exclaimed: "Sapristi! what a difference between that huge funnel and the little petticoat that outlined her form so perfectly! Ah! if I had seen her dressed as she is to-day, all this wouldn't have happened!" "Indeed, it wouldn't!" cried Monsieur de Mardeille; "indeed, it wouldn't have happened; I should still have my twelve thousand francs." "I agree with you entirely, messieurs," said Dupont; "what a difference in her shape! And the change is not to her advantage! The idea of getting into that sugar-loaf affair, instead of letting us see her graceful outlines! Ah! madame! what a scurvy trick to play on us!" * * * * * FOOTNOTES: [A] Naught save the true is beautiful or lovable. [B] How now! you say nothing! My friend, 'tis not nice of you! Once it was different, Remember, I pray you! [C] True joys have fixed their abiding place in the fields; We fear the gods more there, and there make love more at our ease. [D]