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served them at dinner entered. He held in his hand some-
thing which resembled a letter.
‘What is that?’ demanded Favourite.
The waiter replied:—
‘It is a paper that those gentlemen left for these ladies.’
‘Why did you not bring it at once?’
‘Because,’ said the waiter, ‘the gentlemen ordered me not
to deliver it to the ladies for an hour.’
Favourite snatched the paper from the waiter’s hand. It
was, in fact, a letter.
‘Stop!’ said she; ‘there is no address; but this is what is
written on it—‘
‘THIS IS THE SURPRISE.’
She tore the letter open hastily, opened it, and read [she
knew how to read]:—
‘OUR BELOVED:—
‘You must know that we have parents. Parents—you
do not know much about such things. They are called fa-
thers and mothers by the civil code, which is puerile and
honest. Now, these parents groan, these old folks implore
us, these good men and these good women call us prodi-
gal sons; they desire our return, and offer to kill calves for
us. Being virtuous, we obey them. At the hour when you
read this, five fiery horses will be bearing us to our papas
and mammas. We are pulling up our stakes, as Bossu-
et says. We are going; we are gone. We flee in the arms of
Lafitte and on the wings of Caillard. The Toulouse dili-
gence tears us from the abyss, and the abyss is you, O our
little beauties! We return to society, to duty, to respecta-