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250 months distant; but before that, a great day—an important ceremony—none other than the fête of madame—awaited celebration.

The conduct of this fête devolved chiefly on Mademoiselle St. Pierre; madame herself being supposed to stand aloof, disinterestedly unconscious of what might be going forward in her honour. Especially, she never knew, never in the least suspected that a subscription was annually levied on the whole school for the purchase of a handsome present. The polite tact of the reader will please to leave out of the account a brief, secret consultation on this point in madame's own chamber.

"What will you have this year? " was asked by her Parisian lieutenant.

"Oh, no matter! Let it alone. Let the poor children keep their francs." And madame looked benign and modest. The St. Pierre would here protrude her chin; she knew madame by heart; she always called her airs of "bonté"—"des grimaces." She never even professed to respect them one instant.

"Vîte!" she would say coldly. "Name the article. Shall it be jewellery or porcelain, haberdashery or silver?"