Her Friend--Excellent principles! You make my blood boil. But there, I must go. Well, it is understood, I count upon you for Tuesday; he will preach upon authority, a magnificent subject, and we may expect allusions--Ah! I forgot to tell you; I am collecting and I expect your mite, dear. I take as low a sum as a denier (the twelfth of a penny). I have an idea of collecting with my little girl on my praying-stool. Madame de K. collected on Sunday at St. Thomas's and her baby held the alms-bag. The little Jesus had an immense success--immense! Madame--I must go now. How will you dress? Her Friend--Oh! for the present, quite simply and in black; you understand. Madame--Besides, black becomes you so well. Her Friend--Yes, everything is for the best; black does not suit me at all ill. Tuesday, then. But my dear, try to bring your husband, he likes music so much. Madame--Well, I can not promise that. Her Fiend--Ah! mon Dieu! they are all like that, these men; they are strong-minded, and when grace touches them, they look back on their past life with horror. When my husband speaks of his youth, the tears come into his eyes. I must tell you; that he has not always been as he is now; he was a gay boy in his youth, poor fellow. I do not detest a man because he knows life a little, do you? But I am gossiping and time passes; I have a call to make yet on Madame W. I do not know whether she has found her juvenile lead. Madame--What for, in Heaven's name? Her Friend--For her evening party. There are to be private theatricals at her house, but for a pious object, you may be sure, during Lent; it is so as to have a collection on behalf of the Association. I must fly. Good-by, dear. Madame--Till Tuesday, dear; in full uniform? Her Friend--(smiling)--In full uniform. Kind regards to your reprobate. I like him very much all the same. Good-by. CHAPTER VI A DREAM Sleeplessness is almost always to be traced to indigestion. My friend, Dr. Jacques, is there and he will tell you so. Now, on that particular evening, it was last Friday, I had committed the mistake of eating brill, a fish that positively disagrees with me. God grant that the account of the singular dream which ensued may inspire you with some prudent reflections. Be that as it may, this was my dream, in all its extravagance. I had, in this dream, the honor to belong, as senior curate, to one of the most frequented parish churches in Paris. What could be more ridiculous! I was, moreover, respectably stout, possessed a head decked with silver locks, well-shaped hands, an aquiline nose, great unction, the friendship of the lady worshippers, and, I venture to add, the esteem of the rector. While I was reciting the thanksgiving after service, and at the same time unfastening the cords of my alb, the rector came up to me (I see him even now) blowing his nose. "My dear friend," said he, "you hear confessions this evening, do you not?"