than one marriage is made; and when one has four daughters to look after, no means should be neglected. However, everything was all right at the widow's; the games were carried on with the strictest decorum, and blind-man's-buff seated was prohibited. Thursdays, the meetings were at an ex-councillor's. Everybody was not received there; only the cream of society. The guests were forbidden to talk politics, war, affairs of state, or newspaper rumors. There was no card playing, because that was a bad example for the young; there was no dancing, because madame la conseillère, who was old but coquettish, could never obtain a partner; there were no charades, because they disturb the orderly arrangement of a salon, and may result in marring the furniture and tearing curtains; there were no innocent games, because the councillor considered them indecorous; there were no refreshments, because well-bred people never need anything of the sort. With these restrictions, one could say and do whatever one chose, and, of course, enjoy one's self immensely. On Fridays they met at the house of an elector, whose wife, who was young and pretty, followed all the fashions of the capital. There you did whatever you chose; no restraint, no ceremony. Dancing was permitted, and singing, when anyone desired to sing. Sometimes there was instrumental music, because there was a piano. All sorts of games were played, from loto to chess; and you could risk a sou or a louis at your pleasure. Everybody said what came into his head; they laughed and joked and talked as they liked; opinions were free; almost all the newspapers were to be found there, and all sorts of refreshments were provided. It was after the style of the receptions in the Chaussée d'Antin at Paris. On Saturdays--ah! that was the day when they all met at my sister's. "You will see what fun we have," she said to me; "such a noise, such _go_! You can't hear what anyone says, but we laugh, and everyone tries to be merrier than the rest. Why, sometimes the time passes so quickly, that they are still here at half-past ten!" "Half-past ten in the morning?" "Why, no! in the evening. Are you mad?" "Do you call that late?" "I should say so! the custom is to go home at ten o'clock precisely." "Great heaven! I am no longer surprised that your children wake you up at seven o'clock! But on Sundays?" "Oh! on Sundays we meet at monsieur le maire's. There are always a lot of people there. He has a billiard table, and, besides that, the young people dance. You can judge for yourself what fun we have. That, my dear Eugène, is the way we employ the week. As you see, there is some new pleasure every day, and we have no time to be bored." "You have no theatrical performances?" "Very seldom; but we get along without them." "No concerts?"