Armelline was a tender dove, not made to be roughly treated. If I did not want her to hate me I felt that I must either not see her at all or treat her more gently for the future. Her tears convinced me that I had wounded her feelings terribly, and I got up and went out to order some champagne. When I came back I found that she had been weeping bitterly. I did not know what to do; I begged her again and again to forgive me, and to be gay once more, unless she wished to subject me to the severest of all punishments. Emilie backed me up, and on taking her hand and covering it with kisses, I had the pleasure of seeing her smile once more. The oysters were opened in our presence, and the astonishment depicted on the girls’ countenances would have amused me if my heart had been more at ease. But I was desperate with love, and Armelline begged me vainly to be as I was when we first met. We sat down, and I taught my guests how to suck up the oysters, which swam in their own liquid, and were very good. Armelline swallowed half a dozen, and then observed to her friend that so delicate a morsel must be a sin. “Not on account of its delicacy,” said Emilie, “but because at every mouthful we swallow half a paulo.” “Half a paolo” said Armelline, “and the Holy Father does not forbid such a luxury? If this is not the sin of gluttony, I don’t know what is. These oysters are delightful; but I shall speak about the matter to my director.” These simplicities of hers afforded me great mental pleasure, but I wanted bodily pleasure as well. We ate fifty oysters, and drank two bottles of sparkling champagne, which made my two guests eruct and blush and laugh at the same time. I would fain have laughed too and devoured Armelline with my kisses, but I could only devour her with by eyes. I kept the remainder of the oysters for dessert, and ordered the supper to be served. It was an excellent meal, and the two heroines enjoyed it; even Emilie became quite lively. I ordered up lemons and a bottle of rum, and after having the fifty remaining oysters opened I sent the waiter away. I then made a bowl of punch, pouring in a bottle of champagne as a finishing touch. After they had swallowed a few oysters and drank one or two glasses of punch, which they liked amazingly, I begged Emilie to give me an oyster with her lips. “I am sure you are too sensible to find anything wrong in that,” I added. Emilie was astonished at the proposition, and thought it over. Armelline gazed at her anxiously, as if curious as to how she would answer me. “Why don’t you ask Armelline?” she said at length. “Do you give him one first,” said Armelline, “and if you have the courage I will try to do the same.” “What courage do you want? It’s a child’s game; there’s no harm in it.”