Napoleon looked up from his books and counted the clothes.

"There is one sock missing," said he, sternly.

"No," returned Sans Gene. "Half of each sock was washed away, and I
sewed the remaining halves into one. One good sock is better than
two bad ones. If you ever lose a leg in battle you may find the odd
one handy."

"How can I ever repay you?" cried Napoleon, touched by her friendly
act.

"I'm sure I don't know," returned Madame Sans Gene, demurely, "unless
you will escort me to the Charity Ball--I'll buy the tickets."

"And, pray, what good will that do?" asked Bonaparte.

"It will make Lefebvre jealous," said Madame Sans Gene, "and maybe
that will bring him to the point. I want to marry him, but,
encourage him as I will, he does not propose, and as in revising the
calendar the government has abolished leap-year, I really don't know
what to do."

"I cannot go to the ball," said Napoleon, sadly. "I don't dance,
and, besides, I have loaned my dress-suit to Bourrienne. But I will
flirt with you on the street if you wish, and perhaps that will
suffice."

It is hardly necessary to tell the reader that the ruse was
successful, and that Lefebvre, thus brought to the point, married