"Rather pretty figure!"

"How shall I ever get rid of mamma?" thought Oscar.

"What's the matter?" asked Madame Clapart.

Oscar pretended not to hear, the monster! Perhaps Madame Clapart was
lacking in tact under the circumstances; but all absorbing sentiments
have so much egotism!

"Georges, do you like children when travelling?" asked one young man
of the other.

"Yes, my good Amaury, if they are weaned, and are named Oscar, and
have chocolate."

These speeches were uttered in half-tones to allow Oscar to hear them
or not hear them as he chose; his countenance was to be the
weather-gauge by which the other young traveller could judge how much
fun he might be able to get out of the lad during the journey. Oscar
chose not to hear. He looked to see if his mother, who weighed upon him
like a nightmare, was still there, for he felt that she loved him too
well to leave him so quickly. Not only did he involuntarily compare the
dress of his travelling companion with his own, but he felt that his
mother's toilet counted for much in the smiles of the two young men.

"If they would only take themselves off!" he said to himself.

Instead of that, Amaury remarked to Georges, giving a tap with his