The next afternoon, when Dupont called upon his neighbor, he found Colinet there, apparently no less shy and embarrassed than before, sitting in front of Georgette and watching her work, without a word; but with the air of being perfectly happy simply to look at her.

"Well, Monsieur Colinet," said Dupont, "have you been enjoying yourself? have you got a little acquainted with Paris?"

"I've been to see the animals in the Jardin des Plantes, monsieur; but I like my sheep better than the lions and tigers. I wonder why they give them such fine cages, when my sheep often don't have any house even."

"Tigers are kept in cages, Monsieur Colinet, because they are vicious and people are afraid of 'em. As for your sheep, as they never injure anybody, nobody worries about them, and they're allowed to feed where they will. That's worth something in itself."

"My sheep don't always find enough to eat in the fields; but I saw them give great big chunks of meat to your ugly tigers."

"For the very same reason! They're afraid of 'em, so they must keep 'em well fed."

"You must go to the play while you're in Paris, Colinet."

"With you, Mamzelle Georgette?"

"Yes. Monsieur Dupont here will take us both."

"The devil! it seems that I must amuse Monsieur Colinet too," thought Dupont. "But, after all, I prefer that to having her go alone with him."

"Will you take us to the theatre to-night?" Georgette asked Dupont.

"Why, certainly, mademoiselle, with the greatest pleasure! Am I not always at your service, and too happy if I can do anything to please you?"

"Yes, monsieur; I know that you are extremely obliging; but I should dislike to abuse your good nature."

"You cannot put it to the test too often. You know my sentiments for you, for I make no mystery of them; I am your loyal knight!"

Young Colinet stared first at Dupont, then at Georgette, as if he were trying to fathom their meaning. The pretty embroiderer laughed heartily, as she said:

"Then we'll go to the Cirque-National. They give fairy plays there, with transformation scenes;—you'll like that, Colinet."

"I'll go wherever you say, Mamzelle Georgette."

"It's strange," thought Dupont, "that she addresses this young man thou, while he uses you. After all, that's better than if it was the other way."

That evening, he escorted Mademoiselle Georgette and young Colinet to the theatre of the Circus on Boulevard du Temple. I do not need to tell you that the numerous theatres that imparted so much animation to that boulevard were not then demolished. The play was a fairy extravaganza, a mixture of dancing and marvellous exploits, with frequent changes of scenery. The rather scant costumes of the female dancers made Colinet lower his eyes; sometimes he even turned his head away just when most of the spectators had their opera glasses fastened on the forms of those ladies.

"Well, well! what are you thinking about?" Dupont would exclaim, nudging the young man; "you look away at the most delicious moment!"

"I'm afraid of offending those ladies, if I look at them when they lift their legs in our direction," Colinet would reply, with a blush.

"Poor fellow! he certainly isn't dangerous!" was Dupont's conclusion. "Still, my pretty embroiderer pays no attention to anyone else. When I speak to her, she hardly answers me, she doesn't seem to listen. I long for the time when her childhood's friend will return to his sheep."

Dupont's wishes were soon gratified. On the Saturday Colinet said farewell to Georgette, who gave him two letters for her sisters and kisses for her parents. The young man took charge of them all, and went away sadly enough.

"Why don't you come back with me?" he asked Georgette. "I should be so happy to take you back to the province! Do you enjoy yourself so very much in Paris, mamzelle?"

"It isn't that I enjoy myself so much, Colinet; but I must stay here—I must!"

"And will you have to stay long?"

"I don't know; we will hope not. But I promise you, Colinet, that the day that takes me back to my parents will be the happiest day in my life."

"And in mine too, mamzelle."

"Really, Colinet? then you have much—friendship for me?"

"I don't know what I have; but I would like never to leave you again."

"We shall meet again, Colinet; don't forget me. I promise not to forget you."

"Ah! Mamzelle Georgette, that promise makes me very happy!"

And to prove his joy the poor boy burst into tears; then he kissed Georgette and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him, because he felt that if he delayed any longer he would not have the courage to go at all.

Dupont called on his neighbor in the afternoon; he found her sad and thoughtful.

"I opine that the young shepherd has gone," he said.

"Yes, monsieur. He is very lucky: he is going to see my father and mother!"

"No doubt. But it must be very monotonous to look at sheep all the time. You see, charming Georgette, there's nothing like Paris! It is the home of all pleasures; it is the place to which all the great talents, all the people of renown, come to be applauded! In a word, one really lives in Paris; elsewhere, one only vegetates!"

"If that were true, monsieur, it would be most unfortunate for a great many people, for Paris isn't big enough to hold the whole world. But I think myself that one can be very happy elsewhere, when one is with those whom one loves and is able to confine one's desires within reasonable limits."

"That is true, charming Georgette; you talk like Virgil, or Delille. It was the latter, I believe, who said:

But as for making love, with all deference to Delille, that can be done very well in Paris; indeed, the art is carried to perfection here; and if you would only be less cruel to me—— But you are distraught! You don't seem to be listening!"

"What did you say, monsieur?"

"There! I was sure of it; you weren't listening to me! But I forgive you; the departure of your childhood's friend has saddened you. Come, you absolutely must have some diversion! To-morrow will be Sunday, and we must enjoy the day. Will you dine with me?"

"With pleasure."

"I will call for you at five o'clock; be ready then. We will dine at Bonvalet's, on the boulevard."

"Wherever you choose; it's all the same to me."

"Well, then, at Bonvalet's; they treat one very well there. Then we will go to one of the theatres opposite. It's all settled; and until then I leave you with your memories. Au revoir, dear neighbor, until to-morrow!"

Dupont took his leave, rubbing his hands and saying to himself:

"To-morrow will see my triumph! Between now and then, I will go to Bonvalet's, I will speak to one of the waiters, I will suborn him in my interest, and I will engage a private dining-room in advance, even though I have to pay its weight in gold!"