I was relieved, it is true, from the incubus of debt; but then how small a figure I had cut in the eyes of Dr.Cheron! Besides, I was small for the second time--reproved for the second time--lectured, helped, put down, and poohpoohed, for the second time! Could I have peeped at myself just then through the wrong end of a telescope, I vow I could not have looked smaller in my own eyes.
I had no time to dine; so I despatched a cup of coffee and a roll on my way home, and went hungry to the theatre.
Josephine was got up with immense splendor for this occasion; greatly to her own satisfaction and my disappointment.

Having hired a small private box in the least conspicuous part of the theatre, I had committed the cowardly mistake of endeavoring to transform my grisette into a woman of fashion.

I had bought her a pink and white opera cloak, a pretty little fan, a pair of white kid gloves, and a bouquet.

With these she wore a decent white muslin dress furnished out of the limited resources of her own wardrobe, and a wreath of pink roses, the work of her own clever fingers.

Thus equipped, she was far less pretty than in her coquettish little every-day cap, and looked, I regret to say, more like an _ouvriere_ than ever.