"Her face and figure are perfection. What a pity! what a pity!" and Mme. Bricourt cast her eyes up to the ceiling, with an expression of the most angelic sympathy and sorrow. "Why! is there any thing wrong?" asked one of the ladies, with great curiosity. All turned to listen. Corinne said: "Dear Mme. Bricourt, tell us what they say, so we can all know how to defend her--if it becomes necessary--our dear Odette." The venerable Mme. Bricourt settled back in her arm-chair, and in the sweetest, softest tones, said: "They are so wicked to spread these calumnies about her. She is a good, pure woman. I have my opinion of slanderers, and always avoid them when I can. They say she goes out a great deal with her father-in-law. Well, why shouldn't she? Only a very wicked person could see any thing wrong in that M. Frager is very busy; almost as tireless in his studies and work as my estimable son himself. So I think it very natural that M. Sirvin should be her escort. They ask, too, where all the money comes from to dress Odette so extravagantly; for M. Frager, you know, has a very small income. I protest against these malicious conclusions, with all my heart; but they reply that M. Sirvin and Mme. Frager are always together, often alone, at balls and parties, at the opera and at the theater. These are all calumnies, and I fight them every where, for Odette is as good and pure as she is lovely." An actress would have envied the perfect skill with which Mme. Bricourt uttered this tirade. She emphasized some words, gesticulating at others; in short, she was mistress of her art. "It is infamous!" cried Mme. de Smarte. "I will answer for Odette, as I would for myself." "Of course, it is infamous! and we, her friends, must stand by her. We must deny every thing, and try to explain away any thing that seems strange in her conduct. It is not her fault. She was educated so disgracefully." Poor little M. Descoutures had been uneasy for several minutes. He coughed timidly once or twice as if he were about to speak, for his loyal heart saw the malice and envy in these remarks. But the minute he opened his mouth, an angry glance from his wife nailed him dumb to his chair. He looked like a beetle pinned to a card in an entomologist's collection, that can move its limbs, but can not escape. Mme. Bricourt arose to depart. Amable seized her shawl to present to her. The venerable lady looked at him with tears in her eyes, to call attention to his tender solicitude for his beloved mother. She embraced Corinne, and saluted the others gracefully; but, before leaving the drawing-room, she launched this Parthian dart: "And it is very easy to reply to all their insinuations, that M. Sirvin was always very fond of Odette. You remember he settled that money on Paul, so he could marry her, and did all in his power to bring the match about. But I must not stop chatting here so late. Au revoir, dear friends."