“If you will allow me, madame, perhaps I may be more successful than your maid.” Madame Giraud smiled most graciously at me and instantly turned her back, saying: “How kind you are, Monsieur Blémont! What, do you really mean that you----?” “With great pleasure, madame.” I was not a novice at fastening dresses; I took the belt on each side, and although I hurt my fingers a little, the dress was fastened; and I did it as if it had cost me no effort at all. “That’s the way,” cried Madame Giraud triumphantly; “that’s the way; isn’t it, Monsieur Blémont?” “Yes, madame; it’s all right now.” “There, Monsieur Giraud, you see. When one knows how--and monsieur did not seem to make any effort.” “No, madame, none at all.” “Faith, my dear fellow,” said Giraud, “if you will come here every day when madame is dressing, you will do me a great favor.” “Hush, Monsieur Giraud; you ought to be ashamed.--Excuse me, Monsieur Blémont; I must go and finish dressing. A thousand thanks.” Madame returned to her room, and Giraud invited me to sit down in a corner of the salon that had been swept; but I took my hat and bade him adieu; he escorted me as far as the landing, saying: “My friend, marry. Believe me, it is the happiest state. I have three superb matches at your disposal.” “All right, we will see.” “If your stick is found, I will put it away.” “Oh! I am inclined to think, after all, that I didn’t leave it here. Adieu.” So Mademoiselle Eugénie would be at the Porte-Saint-Martin Theatre that evening. The Girauds would be with them, so I should have an excuse for going to pay my respects to them. And yet those Girauds were so stupid, so ridiculous, with their mania for marrying everybody; I was sorry to find that they were intimate with those ladies. But perhaps it was only a society intimacy; one of those in which people call on one another merely to pass the time, but do not care for one another. I awaited the evening not too impatiently, for I was not in love. I desired to see the young woman again because I had nothing better to do, and because my eyes, fatigued by feigning love so long, ached to rest upon other charms in order to recover a little of the fire which they had lost. I went to the theatre late, for I desired that they should be there when I arrived. I cast my eyes over the boxes, and I discovered the ladies in an open box on the first tier. The mother and Madame Giraud were in front, Mademoiselle Eugénie on the second bench. I did not see Giraud; probably he had some marriage to arrange that evening. There was a vacant seat beside Mademoiselle Eugénie. Did I dare? But the box was theirs and I could not presume to go in; it was essential that I should be invited.