"I dissent entirely from that proposition, Monsieur Englishman. I have always had plenty of fun, and I have been short of cash since the hour of my birth. Come, it shall be my proud task to-day to prove to you the pleasures of impecuniosity!" So with our eleven francs and a half we went on to the station, and took our places for Courbevoie. We travelled, of course, by third class in the open wagons; and it so happened that in our compartment we had the company of three pretty little chattering grisettes, a fat countrywoman with a basket, and a quiet-looking elderly female with her niece. These last wore bonnets, and some kind of slight mourning. They belonged evidently to the small bourgeoise class, and sat very quietly in the corner of the carriage, speaking to no one. The three grisettes, however, kept up an incessant fire of small talk and squabble. "I was on this very line last Sunday," said one. "I went with Julie to Asnières, and we were so gay! I wonder if it will be very gay at Courbevoie." "_Je m'en doute_," replied another, whom they called Lolotte. "I came to one of the Courbevoie fêtes last spring, and it was not gay at all. But then, to be sure, I was with Edouard, and he is as dull as the first day in Lent. Where were you last Sunday, Adéle?" "I did not go beyond the barriers. I went to the Cirque with my cousin, and we dined in the Palais Royal. We enjoyed ourselves so much! You know my cousin?" "Ah! yes--the little fellow with the curly hair and the whiskers, who waits for you at the corner when we leave the workshop." "The same--Achille." "Your Achille is nice-looking," said Mademoiselle Lolotte, with a somewhat critical air. "It is a pity he squints." "He does not squint, mam'selle." "Oh, _ma chère_! I appeal to Caroline." "I am not sure that he actually squints," said Mam'selle Caroline, speaking for the first time; "but he certainly has one eye larger than the other, and of quite a different color." "_Tiens_, Caroline--it seems to me that you look very closely into the eyes of young men," exclaims Adèle, turning sharply upon this new assailant. "At all events you admit that Caroline is right," cries Lolotte, triumphantly. "I admit nothing of the kind. I say that you are both very ill-natured, and that you say what is not true. As for you, Lolotte, I don't believe you ever had the chance of seeing a young man's eyes turned upon you, or you would not be so pleased with the attentions of an old one." "An _old_ one!" shrieked Mam'selle Lolotte. "Ah, _mon Dieu_! Is a man old at forty-seven? Monsieur Durand is in the prime of life, and there isn't a girl in the Quartier who would not be proud of his attentions!" "He's sixty, if an hour," said the injured Adèle. "And as for you, Caroline, who have never had a beau in your life...." "_Ciel_! what a calumny!--I--never had a ... Holy Saint Geneviève! why, it was only last Thursday week...."