The group passed out into the Rue Royale, Dr. Mossy shutting the door behind them.  The sky was blue, the air was soft and balmy, and on the sweet south breeze, to which the old General bared his grateful brow, floated a ravishing odor of—­

“Ah! what is it?” the veteran asked of the younger pair, seeing the little aunt glance at them with a playful smile.

Madame Delicieuse for almost the first time in her life, and Dr. Mossy for the thousandth—­blushed.

It was the odor of orange-blossoms.