"Oh, dear!" cried Florence, with a merry laugh, "when I remember all these things now, how amusing they seem, but there wasn't much fun in them then, I assure you. I'll give you the order of exercises of one of the last days of my purgatory, as I call it. You can form a pretty correct idea of the others from that. I got up at three o'clock in the morning, and devoted an hour either to copying music or colouring some large lithograph. You ought not to be very much surprised at this last exhibition of talent on my part, for you know that, at the convent, colouring engravings of the saints and copying music were almost the only things I did at all creditably." "Yes, and it was very clever in you to think of putting these accomplishments to some practical use." "I think so myself, particularly as I often made, in that way, four or five francs a day, or rather a night, over and above my other earnings." "Your other earnings, and what were they, pray?" "Well, to resume the account of my day: At four o'clock, I started for the market." "Great Heavens! for the market? You? And what took you there, pray?" "I tended the stall of a dairywoman, who was too fine a lady to get up so early. Can you imagine anything more pastoral than a traffic in cream and butter and eggs? I received a small commission on my sales, in addition to my regular salary, so every year I derived an income of two hundred francs, more or less, from this source." "You, Florence, the Marquise de Luceval, in such a rôle?" "But how about Michel?" "Michel? What did he do?" "Oh, he had all sorts of avocations, one of them being the office of inspector of goods at the market. In return for his services, he received a salary of fifteen hundred francs, and the profound respect and consideration of all the market women and hucksters. His duties were over at nine o'clock, after which he went to his office, and I to my store." "Your store?" "Yes, on the Rue de l'Arbre-Sec, at the sign of the Corbeille d'Or, I was forewoman in that large and well-known lingerie establishment, and as I can, with reason, boast of both taste and skill in such matters, and haven't a peer in the confection of dressing sacks, bathing suits, peignoirs, etc., I demanded a good price for my services,--it is never well to undervalue oneself,--fifteen hundred francs a year, and found,--'you can take me or not, as you please, at that figure.' It was also understood that I was never to enter the salesroom. I was afraid, you see, of being recognised by some customer, and that might have prevented me from securing employment for the rest of the day." "What! wasn't your day's work ended when you left the store?"