[Illustration: 195]
IT is five o’clock. Mademoiselle Catherine is “at home” to her dolls.
It is her “day.” The dolls do not talk; the little Genie that gave them
their smile did not vouchsafe the gift of speech. He refused it for the
general good; if dolls could talk, we should hear nobody but them. Still
there is no lack of conversation. Mademoiselle Catherine talks for her
guests as well as for herself; she asks questions and gives the answers.
“How do you do?--Very well, thank you. I broke my arm yesterday
morning going to buy cakes. But it’s quite well now.--Ah! so much the
better.--And how is your little girl?--She has the whooping-cough.--Ah!
what a pity! Does she cough much?--Oh! no, it ‘s a whooping-cough where
there’s no cough. You know I had two more children last week.--Really?
that makes four doesn’t it?--Four or five, I’ve forgotten which. When
you have so many, you get confused.--What a pretty frock you
have.--Oh! I ‘ve got far prettier ones still at home.--Do you go to
the theatre?--Yes, every evening. I was at the Opera yesterday; but
Polichinelle wasn’t playing, because the wolf had eaten him.--I go to
dances every day, my dear.--It is so amusing.--Yes, I wear a blue gown
and dance with the young men, Generals, Princes, Confectioners, all the
most distinguished people.--You look as pretty as an angel to-day, my
dear.--Oh! it’s the spring.--Yes, but what a pity it’s snowing.--_I_
love the snow, because it’s white.--Oh! there’s black snow, you
know.--Yes, but that’s the bad snow.” There’s fine conversation for you;
Mademoiselle Catherine’s tongue goes nineteen to the dozen. Still I have
one fault to find with her; she talks all the time to the same visitor,
who is pretty and wears a fine frock.
There she is wrong. A good hostess is equally gracious to all her
guests. She treats them all with affability, and if she shows any
particular preference, it is to the more retiring and the less
prosperous. We should flatter the unhappy; it is the only flattery
allowable. But Catherine has discovered this for herself. She has
guessed the secret of true politeness: a kind heart is everything. She
pours out tea for the company, and forgets nobody. On the contrary, she
presses the dolls that are poor and unhappy and shy to help themselves
to invisible cakes and sandwiches made of dominoes.
Some day Catherine will hold a salon where the old French courtesy will
live again.