So saying I put the ear-rings in the girl’s hands, while she blushed and looked at her aunt as if to ask her permission.

“You may have the ear-rings,” said she, “as this gentleman has been kind enough to give you such a present, and you should give him a kiss by way of thanks.”

“The ear-rings,” said the shopwoman, “will be only three louis.”

Hereupon the affair took a comic turn; the old woman got into a rage and said,

“How can you be such a cheat?  You told me they were only two louis.”

“Nay, madam, I asked three.”

“That’s a lie, and I shall not allow you to rob this gentleman.  Niece, put those ear-rings down; let the shopwoman keep them.”

So far all was well enough; but the old aunt spoilt everything by saying that if I liked to give her niece the three louis she could get her a pair twice as good at another shop.  It was all the same to me, so I smilingly put the three louis in front of the young lady, who still had the ear-rings in her hands.  The shop-woman, who was on the look-out, pocketed the money, saying that the bargain was made, that the three louis belonged to her and the ear-rings to the young lady.

“You are a cheat,” cried out the enraged old woman.

“And you are an old b——­ d,” answered the shop-woman, “I know you well.”  A crowd began to gather in front of the shop, hearing the cries of the two harpies.  Foreseeing a good deal of unpleasantness, I took the aunt by the arm and led her gently away.  The niece, who was quite content with the ear-rings, and did not care whether they cost three louis or two, followed her.  We shall hear of them again in due course.

My dear Baret having made me waste a score of louis, which her poor husband would have regretted much more than myself, we got into the carriage again, and I took her to the church door from which we had started.  On the way she told me she was coming to stop a few days with me at Little Poland, and that it was her husband who would ask me for the invitation.

“When will he do that?”

“To-morrow, if you go by the shop.  Come and buy some stockings; I shall have a bad headache, and Baret will speak to you.”

It may be imagined that I took care to call the next day, and as I did not see his wife in the shop I asked in a friendly way after her health.

“She is ill in bed,” he replied; “she wants a little country air.”

“If you have not fixed for any place, I shall be happy to put you up at Little Poland.”

He replied by a smile of delight.

“I will go and urge her to come myself; in the meanwhile, M. Baret, will you pack me up a dozen pairs of stockings?”

I went upstairs and found the invalid in bed, and laughing in spite of her imaginary headache.  “The business is done,” said I, “you will soon hear of it.”  As I had said, the husband came upstairs with my stockings and told her that I had been good enough to give her a room in my house.  The crafty little creature thanked me, assuring her husband that the fresh air would soon cure her.