Madame F—­To return to what we were saying, how is it that the men who are strongest, most courageous, most manly—­soldiers, in fact—­are precisely those who have most beard?

Madame H—­That is nonsense, for then the pioneers would be braver than the Generals; and, in any case, there is not in France, I am sure, a General with as much beard as a Capuchin.  You have never looked at a Capuchin then?

Madame F—­Oh, yes!  I have looked at one quite close.  It is a rather funny story.  Fancy Clementine’s cook having a brother a Capuchin—­an ex-jeweller, a very decent man.  In consequence of misfortunes in business—­it was in 1848, business was at a stand-still—­in short, he lost his senses—­no, he did not lose his senses, but he threw himself into the arms of Heaven.

Madame H—­Oh!  I never knew that!  When?  Clementine—­

Madame F—­I was like you, I would not believe it, but one day Clementine said to me:  “Since you will not believe in my Capuchin, come and see me tomorrow about three o’clock; he will be paying a visit to his sister.  Don’t have lunch first; we will lunch together.”  Very good.  I went the next day with Louise, who absolutely insisted upon accompanying me, and I found at Clementine’s five or six ladies installed in the drawing-room and laughing like madcaps.  They had all come to see the Capuchin.  “Well,” said I, as I went in, when they all began to make signs to me and whisper, “Hush, hush!” He was in the kitchen.

Madame H—­And what was he like?

Madame F—­Oh! very nice, except his feet; you know how it always gives one a chill to look at their feet; but, in short, he was very amiable.  He was sent for into the drawing-room, but he would not take anything except a little biscuit and a glass of water, which took away our appetites.  He was very lively; told us that we were coquettes with our little bonnets and our full skirts.  He was very funny, always a little bit of the jeweller at the bottom, but with plenty of good nature and frankness.  He imitated the buzzing of a fly for us; it was wonderful.  He also wanted to show us a little conjuring trick, but he needed two corks for it, and unfortunately his sister could only find one.

Madame H—­No matter, I can not understand Clementine engaging a servant like that.

Madame F—­Why?  The brother is a guarantee.

Madame H—­Of morality, I don’t say no; but it seems to me that a girl like that can not be very discreet in her ways.

Madame F—­How do you make that out?

Madame H—­I don’t know, I can not reason the matter out, but it seems to me that it must be so, that is all, . . . besides, I should not like to see a monk in my kitchen, close to the soup.  Oh, mercy! no!

Madame F—­What a child you are!

Madame H—­That has nothing to do with religious feelings, my dear; I do not attack any dogma.  Ah! if I were to say, for instance—­come now, if I were to say, what now?