Pauline. I had my trouble for nothing, for, as I heard afterwards, she
sat in a dark corner where no one could see her. The chapel was full, and
Martinelli pointed out several lords and ladies who were Catholics, and
did not conceal their religion.

When I got home I received a note from Madame Cornelis, saying that as it
was Sunday and she could go out freely, she hoped I would let her come to
dinner. I shewed the letter to Pauline, not knowing whether she would
object to dining with her, and she said she would be happy to do so,
provided there were no men. I wrote in answer to Madame Cornelis that I
should be glad to see her and her charming daughter at dinner. She came,
and Sophie did not leave my side for a moment. Madame Cornelis, who was
constrained in Pauline's presence, took me aside to express her gratitude
and to communicate to me some chimerical schemes of hers which were soon
to make her rich.

Sophie was the life and soul of the party, but as I happened to tell her
mother that Pauline was a lady who was lodging in my house, she said,

"Then she is not your wife?"

"No; such happiness is not for me. It was a joke of mine, and the lady
amused herself at the expense of your credulity."

"Well, I should like to sleep with her."

"Really? When?"

"Whenever mamma will let me."