scamp. In fine, though Alain and I have not actually quarrelled, we pass
each other with, '_Bon jour, mon ami._'"

"Hum! My dear Enguerrand, you have done all you could. Flies will be
flies, and spiders, spiders, till the earth is destroyed by a comet.
Nay, I met a distinguished naturalist in America who maintained that we
shall find flies and spiders in the next world."

"You have been in America? Ah, true--I remember, California!"

"Where have I not been? Tush! music--shall I hear our fair hostess
sing?"

"I am afraid not to-night: because Madame S---------- is to favour us,
and the Signorina makes it a rule not to sing at her own house when
professional artists do. You must hear the Cicogna quietly some day;
such a voice, nothing like it."

Madame S---------, who, since she had learned that there was no cause to
apprehend that Isaura might become her professional rival, conceived for
her a wonderful affection, and willingly contributed her magnificent
gifts of song to the charms of Isaura's salon, now began a fragment from
_I Puritani_, which held the audience as silent as the ghosts listening
to Sappho, and when it was over, several of the guests slipped away,
especially those who disliked music, and feared Madame S--------- might
begin again. Enguerrand was not one of such soulless recreants, but he
had many other places to go to. Besides, Madame S-------- was no novelty
to him.

De Mauleon now approached Isaura, who was seated next to Valerie, and