"Yes, I certainly think you had. I promised that, except in case of Ernest's illness proving serious, they should all leave Paris to-morrow! You may still have time to arrange that this evening," he added, looking at the clock. "All right, I'm off!" I replied, rising up. As I was about to go out, he called me back. "Ah! above all," he continued sharply, "don't forget to tell Eudoxia to-morrow that it is you who have undertaken this business, and that as for me, I have not stirred from here!" "That's quite understood, uncle," I answered, laughing to myself at the blue funk he was in. Needless to add, I did not lose any time. In a quarter of an hour I was at Passy. It so happened that a favourable crisis had come over Ernest and relieved him, and he gave no further cause for anxiety. My aunt Gretchen, who had gone through all this business as a blind man might pass under an arch, without knowing anything about it, did not evince the least surprise on hearing that my uncle "having received a telegram which had obliged him to leave Paris that evening, had commissioned me in his absence to send her off immediately to Amsterdam." She entrusted me with no end of compliments for the Countess of Monteclaro, whose acquaintance she was charmed to have made. The next morning she was rolling away in the express, delighted to have made such an agreeable and enjoyable visit. A week has now passed since this affair, and beyond that my uncle is still quite humiliated by a malicious sort of gaiety affected by my aunt, who often calls him "The Pasha," instead of "The Captain," which is the title she always gave him formerly, everything has resumed the harmonious tranquillity of the best regulated household. Attentions, politenesses, gallantries, &c., are quite the order of the day. Only he is ruining me with all the presents he lavishes upon her; and I have been forced to make serious complaints on the subject to my aunt, who has laughed insanely at them, maintaining that it is "the sinner's ransom." Still, some kind of restrictions are necessary in families, and I have warned her that, if it continues, I shall stop "the late Barbassou's" credit, seeing that he is dead. "You see what a simple matter it is, as my uncle says," I added. But she only laughed again, louder than ever. We have got on no further. Louis, go and hang yourself! I was married yesterday, and you were not there!