I am writing, be it remembered, of "The days of my youth." "_Eh bien_, Monsieur Basil," said Josephine, when my first compliments had been paid.

"I am quite ready.

Where are we going ?" "We shall dine, _mon cher ange_," said I, absently, "at--let me see--at...." "At the Moulin Rouge," interrupted she.

"But that is six hours to come.
In the meantime--" "In the meantime?
Ay, in the meantime...what a delightful day for the time of year!" "Shall it be Versailles ?" suggested Josephine.
"Heaven forbid!" Josephine opened her large eyes.
"_Mon Dieu!_" said she.

"What is there so very dreadful in Versailles ?" I made no reply.