"Phew! what a n.o.ble-minded man!--A little more alicante, please."

"And some chartreuse?"

"In a minute, Monsieur G.o.dichet."

"Dodichet."

"That don't make any difference. For heaven's sake, what does your count want in his wife?"

"This: in the first place, he wants her to be young."

"That goes without saying."

"Good figure, pretty----"

"Those are mere trifles."

"And--she must be really unmarried; do you understand?"

"Perfectly. I have what he wants, monsieur; I have it, and everybody can't say as much!"

"Are you sure? will you guarantee it?"

"Yes, monsieur; as I'm an honest woman!--A young lady, brought up in the best way by strict parents, who never goes out alone----"

"This seems to me to fit the case to perfection.--By the way, there's one other condition: my Sicilian is particular that she shall be a Parisian; he insists on that; he thinks that no women but the Parisians can wear hoopskirts gracefully."

"My young lady is a Parisian, monsieur; born, I believe, on Rue du Pont-aux-Choux, the very centre of Paris."

"The centre of the Marais, you mean, Putiphar."

"That's all the same."

"Yes; Miflores doesn't insist that his future wife must have been born in the Chaussee d'Antin, especially as he never heard of it. Is the family respectable? We are particular about that, you see. A Sicilian count wouldn't want to ally himself with a dealer in rabbit skins--you can understand that."

"Oh! it's a most respectable family, monsieur. Monsieur Mirotaine, the father, is an ex-bailiff."

"You are quite sure?"

"Positive, monsieur. He don't do anything now--he lives on his income.

Juliette's mother--mademoiselle's name is Juliette--is dead; Monsieur Mirotaine is married again, to a woman much younger than he is; from which you can conclude that the stepmother is in a hurry to marry off her stepdaughter."

"Very good! things seem to run as smoothly as if they were on wheels."

"Now, will you allow me to take my turn and ask you a few questions, monsieur?"

"I should say so! all the questions you please, Madame Joseph--I should say, Madame Putiphar! Have some chartreuse--to drink with these damsels!"

"Yes, yes, let's take a drink!--Do you like chartreuse, Putiphar?"

"If it's green, I'm afraid of it; it's too strong."

"This is yellow, and that other green."

"In that case, I'll let you tempt me. My word! but Monsieur G.o.dichet can brag of knowing how to do things in good shape!"

Madame Putiphar sipped the yellow chartreuse, but it did not make her forget the great stroke of business of which she had caught a glimpse.

"Will you be good enough to tell me your count's age first of all, monsieur?"

"Thirty-six; he looks forty, but it's his own doing."

"The age is all right; how about his physique?"

"That corresponds with his age: a fine figure, n.o.ble carriage, fresh as a rose; his nose is a little large, but he will fix that all right by blowing it!"

"Faith! monsieur, everything seems to harmonize on both sides. Allow me to mention your friend to the Mirotaine family to-day; and as soon as he chooses to call----"

"One moment, my dear woman; we can't go so fast as that with Miflores.

He's a peculiar fellow; he is timid and, furthermore, extremely sensitive."

"Do you want Monsieur Mirotaine to call on him?"

"No, indeed! that would spoil everything."

"What are we to do, then? Look you, I believe I'll risk a little green chartreuse; we must get accustomed to everything."

"You are quite right. I drink to the fair s.e.x, of which you are a part, Madame Putiphar."

"I have always hoped so, monsieur. Here's to yours! Hum! this is strong, and very penetrating! Well, monsieur, how are we to go to work to arrange a match between your count and my young and innocent Juliette?"

"Listen to me carefully: I'll set you the pace. In the first place, Miflores will never consent to present himself right away in any family, as a marrying man; he wishes to study, to examine the young lady at his ease--to know her, in short--and I shall be very careful not to tell him that she knows that it is his intention to marry her; moreover, as my friend is very timid, he always insists on my going with him. I will invent some pretext for calling on your Mirotaines; I will tell the count that I am negotiating an important transaction with the papa, and that I need a guarantor. Then he will be perfectly willing to go with me."

"All that is simple enough, monsieur; I will tell Monsieur Mirotaine that you have a great deal of influence over his prospective son-in-law."

"And you will tell no falsehood, I beg you to believe. By the way, there's another matter: my friend is in the habit of dining wherever he goes; it's a n.o.ble habit, contracted in Sicily. If he isn't asked to dinner, he has the worst possible opinion of the people to whose house I have taken him. Moreover, he's a great gourmand; an excellent dinner, with plenty of good wine and dainty dishes, will dispose him favorably."

"The deuce! that makes the thing rather harder, monsieur; for I must tell you that Monsieur Mirotaine is a little close in the matter of spending money--a little miserly, I may as well say it. He never gives a dinner party. If, by any chance, he does invite anyone, it's always on condition that he brings his own dishes."

"I can a.s.sure you that we won't bring anything at all! If that's the case, there's nothing to be done!"

"It seems to me," said Rosa, "that a man can well afford to put out a little money for once, to catch a rich n.o.ble for a son-in-law, who takes his daughter without a sou."

"I should think so!" cried Boulotte; "such a husband as that is a treasure!"

"Yes, my dear loves, you are right. We won't give it up, Monsieur G.o.dichet; I'll just speak to the stepmother; she'll back me up, for she'll be delighted to be allied to a count. She will make her husband listen to reason, and he'll give the dinner."

"All right!"