Should she tell them to Clotilde?
Ah! and for what?
No, Clotilde was a dear daughter--ha! few women were capable of having such a daughter as Clotilde; but there were things about which she was entirely too scrupulous.

So, when she came in from that errand profoundly satisfied that she would in future hear no more about the rent than she might choose to hear, she had been too shrewd to expose herself to her daughter's catechising.

She would save her little revelations for disclosure when they might be used to advantage.

As she threw her bonnet upon the bed, she exclaimed, in a tone of gentle and wearied reproach: "Why did you not remind me that M.Honore Grandissime, that precious somebody-great, has the honor to rejoice in a quadroon half-brother of the same illustrious name?
Why did you not remind me, eh ?" "Ah! and you know it as well as A, B, C," playfully retorted Clotilde.
"Well, guess which one is our landlord ?" "Which one ?" "_Ma foi_! how do _I_ know?
I had to wait a shameful long time to see _Monsieur le prince_,--just because I am a De Grapion, I know.

When at last I saw him, he says, 'Madame, this is the other Honore Grandissime.' There, you see we are the victims of a conspiracy; if I go to the other, he will send me back to the first.