"Oh! my dear fellow, when a woman's at her toilet, one can never be sure how long a time she'll spend over it. One day, I remember, in the time of my splendor, I was waiting for my mistress, to go to the theatre, to see a new play. I believe it was at the Opera-Comique--but, no matter. She had finally got dressed,--it had taken her a long while,--when, happening to look in the mirror, she cried: 'My wreath of blue-bottles is too far down on my forehead--I must change it--it's just a matter of putting in a pin.'--'All right,' said I; 'put in your pin. I'll wait'--My dear fellow, that pin, and all the others that she put in after it, took an hour and a half! and when we reached the theatre, the new play was over." Observing that his young companion had fallen into abstraction once more, and was paying no heed to him, Cherami decided to leave the private room and try his fortunes in the corridor, saying to himself: "I feel the need of a little fresh air; it's as hot as the tropics in these private dining-rooms. Ah! what do I see yonder? Ladies--many ladies. I must go and cast an eye in that direction. The fair sex attracts me--it's my magnet." The ladies of the Monleard party were beginning to return, arrayed for the ball. To reach the room where they were to dance, they had to pass along the corridor to the main staircase. Cherami took his stand at the head of the staircase, and there ogled the ladies, bowed to them all as if he knew them, and spoke to each of them as she passed. "Charming, on my word! A divine costume!--White shoulders that would drive Venus to despair!--Ah! how we are going to flirt!--A very pretty head-dress; bravo!--Ah! here's a mamma who proposes to play the coy maiden. Dear lady, you will find difficulty in getting partners, I warn you. There are pretty faces here that will monopolize all the cavaliers. Oho! what fine eyes! they are like carbuncles. Who will deign to accept my hand or my arm? I am at your service, fair ladies!" But the ladies, instead of accepting the hand which my gentleman offered them, passed him without replying, or shrank from him, because there was in his whole aspect a seediness entirely out of harmony with their ball-dresses; moreover, he smelt so strongly of punch and liquors that it was impossible to pass him without receiving a whiff of the odor. Several ladies put their handkerchiefs to their faces as they hurried by, and some exclaimed: "Why, who can that man be? Where did he come from? He is drunk!--Surely he is not one of Monsieur Monleard's wedding guests. What is he doing there, like a sentinel? He speaks to everybody, and with an astonishing lack of ceremony. He poisons the air with wine and liquor. Can't somebody send the horrible creature away?" These complaints soon reached the ears of the gentlemen who had remained to play cards. Some of them rose and walked into the hall, saying: