Becoming, rather,' edged with green,'—
Roses in yellow, Thorns between.

'Quick! Bring me that!' 'Tis brought. 'Complete, Superb, Enchanting, Tasteful, Neat,'

In all the Tones. 'And this you call

"" ILL-NATURE," Madame.

HORTENSE.

?'

It fits all."

And called (I think)—

(Placing his hat upon his breast),

"The Cap that Fits."

(They enter the Chalet.)

You are as changing, Child,-as Men.

NINON.

But are they? Is it true, I mean?

Who said it?

NINETTE.

Sister SERAPHINE.

She was so pious and so good,

With such sad eyes beneath her hood,

And such poor little feet,-all bare!
Her name was EUGENIE LA FÈRE.
She used to tell us,-moonlight nights,---
When I was at the Carmelites.

NINON.

Ah, then it must be right. And yet,
Suppose for once-suppose, NINETTE-

Suppose it were not so?

Suppose there were true men, you know!

NINETTE.

And then?

NINON.

Why, if that could occur,

What kind of man should you prefer?

NINETTE.

What looks, you mean?

NINON.

Looks, voice and all.

NINETTE.

Well, as to that, he must be tall,
Or say, not "tall,"—of middle size;
And next, he must have laughing eyes,
And a hook-nose,—with, underneath,
O! what a row of sparkling teeth!

NINON (touching her cheek suspiciously).
Has he a scar on this side?

NINETTE.

Hush!

Some one is coming. No; a thrush:
I see it swinging there.

NINON.

Go on.

NINETTE.

Then he must fence, (ah, look, 'tis gone!)
And dance like Monseigneur, and sing
"Love was a Shepherd ":-everything
That men do. Tell me yours, NINON.

NINON.

Shali I? Then mine has black, black hair...
I mean he should have; then an air

Half sad, half noble; features thin;
A little royale on the chin;

And such a pale, high brow.
He is a prince of gentlemen ;-

And then,

He, too, can ride and fence and write
Sonnets and madrigals, yet fight
No worse for that-

And I, I swear

On this old turquoise reliquaire,—

My great-great Grandmother's !!(After a pause.)

I feel so sad.

NINETTE.

NINETTE!

I too. But why?

NINON.

Alas, I know not!

NINETTE (with a sigh).

Nor do I.