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 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

Chapter 6

MULTIPLE CHOICE

1. One or more objects may be created from a(n):

a. field
b. class
c. method
d. instance

ANS: B

2. Class objects normally have __________ that perform useful operations on their data, but primitive variables do
not.
a. fields
b. instances
c. methods
d. relationships

ANS: C

3. In the cookie cutter metaphor, think of the ________ as a cookie cutter and ________ as the cookies.
a. object; classes
b. class; objects
c. class; fields
d. attribute; methods

ANS: B

4. Which of the following are classes from the Java API?

a. Scanner
b. Random
c. PrintWriter
d. All of the above

ANS: D

5. When you are working with a ____________, you are using a storage location that holds a piece of data.
a. primitive variable
b. reference variable
c. numeric literal
d. binary number

ANS: A

6. What is stored by a reference variable?

a. A binary encoded decimal
b. A memory address
c. An object
d. A string
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

ANS: B

7. Most programming languages that are in use today are:

a. procedural
b. logic
c. object-oriented
d. functional

ANS: C

8. Java allows you to create objects of this class in the same way you would create primitive variables.
a. Random
b. String
c. PrintWriter
d. Scanner

ANS: B

9. A UML diagram does not contain:

a. the class name.
b. the method names.
c. the field names.
d. object names

ANS: D

10. Data hiding, which means that critical data stored inside the object is protected from code outside the object, is
accomplished in Java by:
a. using the public access specifier on the class methods
b. using the private access specifier on the class methods
c. using the private access specifier on the class definition
d. using the private access specifier on the class fields

ANS: D

11. For the following code, which statement is not true?

public class Sphere

{
private double radius;
public double x;
private double y;
private double z;
}

a. x is available to code that is written outside the Circle class.

b. radius is not available to code written outside the Circle class.
c. radius, x, y, and z are called members of the Circle class.
d. z is available to code that is written outside the Circle class.
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

ANS: D

12. You should not define a class field that is dependent upon the values of other class fields:
a. in order to avoid having stale data
b. because it is redundant
c. because it should be defined in another class
d. in order to keep it current

ANS: A

13. What does the following UML diagram entry mean?

+ setHeight(h : double) : void

a. this is a public attribute named Height and is a double data type

b. this is a private method with no parameters and returns a double data type
c. this is a private attribute named Height and is a double data type
d. this is a public method with a parameter of data type double and does not return a value

ANS: D

14. Methods that operate on an object's fields are called:

a. instance variables
b. instance methods
c. public methods
d. private methods

ANS: B

15. The scope of a private instance field is:

a. the instance methods of the same class
b. inside the class, but not inside any method
c. inside the parentheses of a method header
d. the method in which they are defined

ANS: A

16. A constructor:
a. always accepts two arguments
b. has return type of void
c. has the same name as the class
d. always has an access specifier of private

ANS: C

17. Which of the following statements will create a reference, str, to the String, “Hello, World”?
a. String str = "Hello, World";
b. string str = "Hello, World";
c. String str = new "Hello, World";
d. str = "Hello, World";
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

ANS: A

18. Two or more methods in a class may have the same name as long as:
a. they have different return types
b. they have different parameter lists
c. they have different return types, but the same parameter list
d. you cannot have two methods with the same name

ANS: B

19. Given the following code, what will be the value of finalAmount when it is displayed?

public class Order

{
private int orderNum;
private double orderAmount;
private double orderDiscount;

public Order(int orderNumber, double orderAmt,

double orderDisc)
{
orderNum = orderNumber;
orderAmount = orderAmt;
orderDiscount = orderDisc;
}
public int getOrderAmount()
{
return orderAmount;
}
public int getOrderDisc()
{
return orderDisc;
}
}

public class CustomerOrder

{
public static void main(String[] args)
{
int ordNum = 1234;
double ordAmount = 580.00;
double discountPer = .1;
Order order;
double finalAmount = order.getOrderAmount() –
order.getOrderAmount() * order.getOrderDisc();
System.out.println("Final order amount = $" +
finalAmount);
}
}
a. 528.00
b. 580.00
c. There is no value because the constructor has an error.
d. There is no value because the object order has not been created.
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

ANS: D

20. A class specifies the ________ and ________ that a particular type of object has.
a. relationships; methods
b. fields; object names
c. fields; methods
d. relationships; object names

ANS: C

21. This refers to the combining of data and code into a single object.
a. Data hiding
b. Abstraction
c. Object
d. Encapsulation

ANS: D

22. Another term for an object of a class is

a. access specifier
b. instance
c. member
d. method

ANS: B

23. In your textbook the general layout of a UML diagram is a box that is divided into three sections. The top
section has the _______; the middle section holds _______; the bottom section holds _______.
a. class name; attributes or fields; methods
b. class name; object name; methods
c. object name; attributes or fields; methods
d. object name; methods; attributes or fields

ANS: A

24. For the following code, which statement is not true?

public class Circle

{
private double radius;
public double x;
private double y;
}

a. x is available to code that is written outside the Circle class.

b. radius is not available to code written outside the Circle class.
c. radius, x, and y are called members of the Circle class.
d. y is available to code that is written outside the Circle class.

ANS: D

25. It is common practice in object-oriented programming to make all of a class's

 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

a. methods private
b. fields private
c. fields public
d. fields and methods public

ANS: B

26. After the header, the body of the method appears inside a set of:
a. brackets, []
b. parentheses, ()
c. braces, {}
d. double quotes, ""

ANS: C

27. In UML diagrams, this symbol indicates that a member is private:

a. *
b. #
c. -
d. +

ANS: C

28. In UML diagrams, this symbol indicates that a member is public.

a. /
b. @
c. -
d. +

ANS: D

29. In a UML diagram to indicate the data type of a variable enter:

a. the variable name followed by the data type
b. the variable name followed by a colon and the data type
c. the class name followed by the variable name followed by the data type
d. the data type followed by the variable name

ANS: B

30. When an object is created, the attributes associated with the object are called:
a. instance fields
b. instance methods
c. fixed attributes
d. class instances

ANS: A

31. When an object is passed as an argument to a method, what is passed into the method’s parameter variable?
a. the class name
b. the object’s memory address
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

c. the values for each field

d. the method names

ANS: B

32. A constructor is a method that:

a. returns an object of the class.
b. never receives any arguments.
c. with the name ClassName.constructor.
d. performs initialization or setup operations.

ANS: D

33. The scope of a public instance field is:

a. only the class in which it is defined
b. inside the class, but not inside any method
c. inside the parentheses of a method header
d. the instance methods and methods outside the class

ANS: D

34. Which of the following statements will create a reference, str, to the string, “Hello, world”?

(1) String str = new String("Hello, world");

(2) String str = "Hello, world";

a. 1
b. 2
c. 1 and 2
d. Neither 1 or 2

ANS: C

35. Overloading means multiple methods in the same class

a. have the same name, but different return types
b. have different names, but the same parameter list
c. have the same name, but different parameter lists
d. perform the same function

ANS: C

36. Given the following code, what will be the value of finalAmount when it is displayed?

public class Order

{
private int orderNum;
private double orderAmount;
private double orderDiscount;

public Order(int orderNumber, double orderAmt,

double orderDisc)
{
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

orderNum = orderNumber;
orderAmount = orderAmt;
orderDiscount = orderDisc;
}

public double finalOrderTotal()

{
return orderAmount - orderAmount *
orderDiscount;
}
}

public class CustomerOrder

{
public static void main(String[] args)
{
Order order;
int orderNumber = 1234;
double orderAmt = 580.00;
double orderDisc = .1;
order = new Order(orderNumber, orderAmt, orderDisc);
double finalAmount = order.finalOrderTotal();
System.out.println("Final order amount = $" +
finalAmount);
}
}
a. 528.00
b. 580.00
c. 522.00
d. There is no value because the object order has not been created.

ANS: C

37. A class’s responsibilities include:

a. the things a class is responsible for doing c. both A and B

b. the things a class is responsible for knowing d. neither A or B

ANS: C

38. Instance methods do not have this key word in their headers:
a. public
b. static
c. private
d. protected

ANS: B

39. Which of the following is not involved in finding the classes when developing an object-oriented application?

a. Describe the problem domain. c. Write the code.

b. Identify all the nouns. d. Refine the list of nouns to include only those
that are relevant to the problem.
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

ANS: C

40. This is a group of related classes.

a. archive c. collection
b. package d. attachment

ANS: B

41. Quite often you have to use this statement to make a group of classes available to a program.

a. import c. link
b. use d. assume

ANS: A

42. Look at the following statement.

import java.util.Scanner;

This is an example of

a. a wildcard import c. unconditional import

b. an explicit import d. conditional import

ANS: B

43. Look at the following statement.

import java.util.*;

This is an example of:

a. a wildcard import c. unconditional import

b. an explicit import d. conditional import

ANS: A

44. The following package is automatically imported into all Java programs.

a. java.java c. java.util
b. java.default d. java.lang

ANS: D

TRUE/FALSE

1. An object can store data.

ANS: T
 Gaddis: Starting Out with Java: From Control Structures through Objects, 5/e © 2012 Pearson Education

2. A class in not an object, but a description of an object.

ANS: T

3. An access specifier indicates how the class may be accessed.

ANS: T

4. A method that stores a value in a class's field or in some other way changes the value of a field is known as a
mutator method.

ANS: T

5. Instance methods should be declared static.

ANS: F

6. A constructor is a method that is automatically called when an object is created.

ANS: T

7. Shadowing is the term used to describe where the field name is hidden by the name of a local or parameter
variable.

ANS: T

8. The public access specifier for a field indicates that the attribute may not be accessed by statements outside
the class.

ANS: F

9. A method that gets a value from a class's field but does not change it is known as a mutator method.

ANS: F

10. Instance methods do not have the key word static in their headers.

ANS: T

11. The term "default constructor" is applied to the first constructor written by the author of a class.

ANS: F

12. When a local variable in an instance method has the same name as an instance field, the instance field hides the
local variable.

ANS: F

13. The term "no-arg constructor" is applied to any constructor that does not accept arguments.

ANS: T

14. The java.lang package is automatically imported into all Java programs.

ANS: T
Discovering Diverse Content Through
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"Every day I form energetic resolutions, for you must understand
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thinking of death, and saying to myself that I am lost, that all is
over.
"I am mentally so ill that I went for a walk to Père Lachaise
cemetery yesterday. I looked at all the graves, standing in a row like
dominoes, and I thought to myself: 'I shall soon be there,' and then
I returned home, quite determined to pretend to be ill, and so
escape, but I could not.
"Oh! You don't know what it is. Ask a smoker who is poisoning
himself with nicotine whether he can give up his delicious and
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He got up and held out his hand. I felt seized with a tumult of rage,
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kill yourself like that?"
He shrugged his shoulders without replying, and went off.
For six months I did not see him. Every morning I expected a letter
of invitation to his funeral, but I would not go to his house from a
complicated feeling of anger against him and of contempt for that
woman; for a thousand different reasons.
One lovely spring morning I was walking in the Champs-Elysées. It
was one of those warm afternoons which make our eyes bright and
stir in us a tumultuous feeling of happiness from the mere sense of
existence. Some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning round I
saw my old friend, looking well, stout, and rosy.
He gave me both hands, beaming with pleasure, and exclaimed:
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I looked at him, utterly thunderstruck.
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indeed changed in the last six months!"
He flushed scarlet, and said, with an embarrassed laugh:
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I looked at him so obstinately that he evidently felt uncomfortable,
so I went on:
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He stammered, hastily:
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I should have come across you, old fellow. I hope we shall see each
other often now."
But I would not give up my idea; I wanted to know how matters
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"Don't you remember what you told me six months ago? I suppose—
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"Please don't talk any more about it," he replied, uneasily; "forget
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intention of letting you go; you must come and dine at my house."
A sudden fancy took me to see for myself how matters stood, so
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he introduced me to his home.
His wife received me in a most charming manner, and she was, as a
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distinguished and adorably naïve. Her long hands, her neck, and
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breeding, and her walk was undulating and delightful, as if her leg
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René gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead and said:
"Has not Lucien come yet?"
"Not yet," she replied, in a clear, soft voice; "you know he is almost
always rather late."
At that moment the bell rang, and a tall man was shown in. He was
dark, with a thick beard, and looked like a society Hercules. We were
introduced to each other; his name was Lucien Delabarre.
René and he shook hands in a most friendly manner, and then we
went to dinner.
It was a most enjoyable meal, without the least constraint. My old
friend spoke with me constantly, in the old familiar cordial manner,
just as he used to do. It was: "You know, old fellow!"—"I say, old
fellow!"—"Just listen a moment, old fellow!" Suddenly he exclaimed:
"You don't know how glad I am to see you again; it takes me back
to old times."
I looked at his wife and the other man. Their attitude was perfectly
correct, though I fancied once or twice that they exchanged a rapid
and furtive look.
As soon as dinner was over René turned to his wife, and said:
"My dear, I have just met Pierre again, and I am going to carry him
off for a walk and a chat along the boulevards to remind us of old
times. You will excuse this bachelor spree. I am leaving Mr.
Delabarre with you."
The young woman smiled, and said to me, as she shook hands with
me:
"Don't keep him too long."
As we went along, arm-in-arm, I could not help saying to him, for I
was determined to know how matters stood:
"What has happened? Do tell me!"
He, however, interrupted me roughly, and answered like a man who
has been disturbed without any reason.
"Just look here, old fellow; leave me alone with your questions."
Then he added, half aloud, as if talking to himself:
"After all, it would have been too stupid to have let oneself go to
perdition like that."
I did not press him. We walked on quickly and began to talk. All of a
sudden he whispered in my ear:
"I say, suppose we go and see the girls! Eh?"
I could not help laughing heartily.
"Just as you like; come along, old man."

THE UMBRELLA

Madame Oreille was a very economical woman; she thoroughly knew

the value of a half-penny, and possessed a whole store-house of
strict principles with regard to the multiplication of money, so that
her servant found the greatest difficulty in making what servants call
their "market-penny," while her husband had great difficulty in
getting any pocket-money at all. They were, however, very
comfortably off, and had no children. It really pained. Mme Oreille to
see any money spent; it was like tearing at her heartstrings when
she had to take any of those silver pieces out of her pocket; and
whenever she had to spend anything, no matter how necessary it
was, she slept badly the next night.
Oreille was continually saying to his wife:
"You really might be more liberal, as we have no children and never
spend our income."
"You don't know what may happen," she used to reply. "It is better
to have too much than too little."
She was a little woman of about forty, very active, rather hasty,
wrinkled, very neat and tidy, and with a very short temper. Her
husband very often used to complain of all the privations she made
him endure; some of them were particularly painful to him, as they
touched his vanity.
He was one of the upper clerks in the War Office, and only stayed
there in obedience to his wife's wish, so as to increase their income,
which they did not nearly spend.
For two years he had always come to the office with the same old
patched umbrella, to the great amusement of his fellow-clerks. At
last he got tired of their jokes, and insisted upon his wife buying him
a new one. She bought one for eight francs and a-half, one of those
cheap things which big stores sell as an advertisement. When the
others in the office saw the article, which was being sold in Paris by
the thousand, they began their jokes again, and Oreille had a
dreadful time of it with them. The umbrella was no good. In three
months it was done for and at the office everybody laughed. They
even made a song about it, which he heard from morning till night
all over the immense building.
Oreille was very angry, and peremptorily told his wife to get him a
new one, a good silk one, for twenty francs, and to bring him the
bill, so that he might see that it was all right.
She bought him one for eighteen francs, and said, getting red with
anger as she gave it to her husband:
"This will last you for five years at least."
Oreille felt quite triumphant, and obtained a small ovation at the
office with his new acquisition. When he went home in the evening,
his wife said to him, looking at the umbrella uneasily:
"You should not leave it fastened up with the elastic; it will very
likely cut the silk. You must take care of it, for I shall not buy you a
new one in a hurry."
She took it, unfastened it, and then remained dumfounded, with
astonishment and rage. In the middle of the silk there was a hole as
big as a six-penny-piece, as if made with the end of a cigar.
"What is that?" she screamed.
Her husband replied quietly, without looking at it:
"What is it? What do you mean?"
She was choking with rage and could hardly get out a word.
"You—you—have burned—your umbrella! Why—you must be—mad!
Do you wish to ruin us outright?"
He turned round hastily, turning pale.
"What are you talking about?"
"I say that you have burned your umbrella. Just look here—"
And rushing at him, as if she were going to beat him, she violently
thrust the little circular burned hole under his nose.
He was so utterly struck dumb at the sight of it that he could only
stammer out:
"What—what is it? How should I know? I have done nothing, I will
swear. I don't know what is the matter with the umbrella."
"You have been playing tricks with it at the office; you have been
playing the fool and opening it, to show it off!" she screamed.
"I only opened it once, to let them see what a nice one it was, that
is all, I declare."
But she shook with rage, and got up one of those conjugal scenes
which make a peaceable man dread the domestic hearth more than
a battlefield where bullets are raining.
She mended it with a piece of silk cut out of the old umbrella, which
was of a different color, and the next day Oreille went off very
humbly with the mended article in his hand. He put it into a
cupboard, and thought no more of it than of some unpleasant
recollection.
But he had scarcely got home that evening when his wife took the
umbrella from him, opened it, and nearly had a fit when she saw
what had befallen it, for the disaster was now irreparable. It was
covered with small holes, which evidently, proceeded from burns,
just as if some one had emptied the ashes from a lighted pipe on to
it. It was done for, utterly, irreparably.
She looked at it without a word, in too great a passion to be able to
say anything. He also, when he saw the damage, remained almost
dumb, in a state of frightened consternation.
They looked at each other; then he looked on to the floor. The next
moment she threw the useless article at his head, screaming out in a
transport of the most violent rage, for she had now recovered her
voice:
"Oh! you brute! you brute! You did it on purpose, but I will pay you
out for it. You shall not have another."
And then the scene began again. After the storm had raged for an
hour, he, at last, was able to explain himself. He declared that he
could not understand it at all, and that it could only proceed from
malice or from vengeance.
A ring at the bell saved him; it was a friend whom they were
expecting to dinner.
Mme Oreille submitted the case to him. As for buying a new
umbrella, that was out of the question; her husband should not have
another. The friend very sensibly said that in that case his clothes
would be spoiled, and they were certainly worth more than the
umbrella. But the little woman, who was still in a rage, replied:
"Very well, then, when it rains he may have the kitchen umbrella, for
I will not give him a new silk one."
Oreille utterly rebelled at such an idea.
"All right," he said; "then I shall resign my post. I am not going to
the office with the kitchen umbrella."
The friend interposed:
"Have this one re-covered; it will not cost much."
But Mme Oreille, being in the temper that she was, said:
"It will cost at least eight francs to re-cover it. Eight and eighteen
are twenty-six. Just fancy, twenty-six francs for an umbrella! It is
utter madness!"
The friend, who was only a poor man of the middle classes, had an
inspiration:
"Make your fire insurance pay for it. The companies pay for all
articles that are burned, as long as the damage has been done in
your own house."
On hearing this advice the little woman calmed down immediately,
and then, after a moment's reflection, she said to her husband:
"To-morrow, before going to your office, you will go to the
Maternelle Insurance Company, show them the state your umbrella
is in, and make them pay for the damage."
M. Oreille fairly jumped, he was so startled at the proposal.
"I would not do it for my life! It is eighteen francs lost, that is all. It
will not ruin us."
The next morning he took a walking-stick when he went out, for,
luckily, it was a fine day.
Left at home alone, Mme Oreille could not get over the loss of her
eighteen francs by any means. She had put the umbrella on the
dining-room table, and she looked at it without being able to come
to any determination.
Every moment she thought of the insurance company, but she did
not dare to encounter the quizzical looks of the gentlemen who
might receive her, for she was very, timid before people, and grew
red at a mere nothing, feeling embarrassed when she had to speak
to strangers.
But regret at the loss of the eighteen francs pained her as if she had
been wounded. She tried not to think of it any more, and yet every
moment the recollection of the loss struck her painfully. What was
she to do, however? Time went on, and she could not decide; but
suddenly, like all cowards, she made up her mind.
"I will go, and we will see what will happen."
But first of all she was obliged to prepare the umbrella so that the
disaster might be complete, and the reason of it quite evident. She
took a match from the mantelpiece, and between the ribs she
burned a hole as big as the palm of her hand. Then she rolled it up
carefully, fastened it with the elastic band, put on her bonnet and
shawl, and went quickly toward the Rue de Rivoli, where the
insurance office was.
But the nearer she got the slower she walked. What was she going
to say, and what reply would she get?
She looked at the numbers of the houses; there were still twenty-
eight. That was all right, she had time to consider, and she walked
slower and slower. Suddenly she saw a door on which was a large
brass plate with "La Maternelle Fire Insurance Office" engraved on it.
Already! She waited for a moment, for she felt nervous and almost
ashamed; then she went past, came back, went past again, and
came back again.
At last she said to herself:
"I must go in, however, so I may as well do it now as later."
She could not help noticing, however, how her heart beat as she
entered. She went into an enormous room with grated wicket
openings all round, and a man behind each of them, and as a
gentleman, carrying a number of papers, passed her, she stopped
him and said, timidly:
"I beg your pardon, Monsieur, but can you tell me where I must
apply for payment for anything that has been accidentally burned?"
He replied in a sonorous voice:
"The first door on the left; that is the department you want."
This frightened her still more, and she felt inclined to run away, to
make no claim, to sacrifice her eighteen francs. But the idea of that
sum revived her courage, and she went upstairs, out of breath,
stopping at almost every other step.
She knocked at a door which she saw on the first landing, and a
clear voice said, in answer:
"Come in!"
She obeyed mechanically, and found herself in a large room where
three solemn gentlemen, each with a decoration in his buttonhole,
were standing talking.
One of them asked her: "What do you want, Madame?"
She could hardly get out her words, but stammered: "I have come—
I have come on account of an accident, something—"
He very politely pointed out a seat to her.
"If you will kindly sit down I will attend to you in a moment."
And, returning to the other two, he went on with the conversation.
"The company, gentlemen, does not consider that it is under any
obligation to you for more than four hundred thousand francs, and
we can pay no attention to your claim to the further sum of a
hundred thousand, which you wish to make us pay. Besides that, the
surveyor's valuation—"
One of the others interrupted him:
"That is quite enough, Monsieur; the law-courts will decide between
us, and we have nothing further to do than to take our leave." And
they went out after mutual ceremonious bows.
Oh! if she could only have gone away with them, how gladly she
would have done it; she would have run away and given up
everything. But it was too late, for the gentleman came back, and
said, bowing:
"What can I do for you, Madame?"
She could scarcely speak, but at last she managed to say:
"I have come—for this."
The manager looked at the object which she held out to him in mute
astonishment. With trembling fingers she tried to undo the elastic,
and succeeded, after several attempts, and hastily opened the
damaged remains of the umbrella.
"It looks to me to be in a very bad state of health," he said,
compassionately.
"It cost me twenty francs," she said, with some hesitation.
He seemed astonished. "Really! As much as that?"
"Yes, it was a capital article, and I wanted you to see the state it is
in."
"Very well, I see; very well. But I really do not understand what it
can have to do with me."
She began to feel uncomfortable; perhaps this company did not pay
for such small articles, and she said:
"But—it is burned."
He could not deny it.
"I see that very well," he replied.
She remained open-mouthed, not knowing what to say next; then
suddenly forgetting that she had left out the main thing, she said
hastily:
"I am Mme Oreille; we are assured in La Maternelle, and I have
come to claim the value of this damage. I only want you to have it
re-covered," she added quickly, fearing a positive refusal.
The manager was rather embarrassed, and said:
"But, really, Madame, we do not sell umbrellas; we cannot undertake
such kinds of repairs."
The little woman felt her courage reviving; she was not going to give
up without a struggle; she was not even afraid now, so she said:
"I only want you to pay me the cost of repairing it; I can quite well
get it done myself."
The gentleman seemed rather confused.
"Really, Madame, it is such a very small matter! We are never asked
to give compensation for such trivial losses. You must allow that we
cannot make good pocket-handkerchiefs, gloves, brooms, slippers,
all the small articles which are every day exposed to the chances of
being burned."
She got red, and felt inclined to fly into a rage.
"But Monsieur, last December one of our chimneys caught fire, and
caused at least five hundred francs' damage. M. Oreille made no
claim on the company, and so it is only just that it should pay for my
umbrella now."
The manager, guessing that she was telling a lie, said, with a smile:
"You must acknowledge, Madame, that it is very surprising that M.
Oreille should have asked no compensation for damages amounting
to five hundred francs, and should now claim five or six francs for
mending an umbrella."
She was not the least put out, and replied:
"I beg your pardon, Monsieur, the five hundred francs affected M.
Oreille's pocket, whereas this damage, amounting to eighteen
francs, concerns Mme Oreille's pocket only, which is a totally
different matter."
As he saw that he had no chance of getting rid of her, and that he
would only be wasting his time, he said, resignedly:
"Will you kindly tell me how the damage was done?"
She felt that she had won the victory, and said:
"This is how it happened. Monsieur: In our hall there is a bronze
stick and umbrella-stand, and the other day, when I came in, I put
my umbrella into it. I must tell you that just above there is a shelf
for the candlesticks and matches. I put out my hand, took three or
four matches, and struck one, but it missed fire, so I struck another,
which ignited, but went out immediately, and a third did the same."
The manager interrupted her, to make a joke.
"I suppose they were Government matches, then?"
She did not understand him, and went on:
"Very likely. At any rate, the fourth caught fire, and I lit my candle,
and went into my room to go to bed; but in a quarter-of-an-hour I
fancied that I smelled something burning, and I have always been
terribly afraid of fire. If ever we have an accident it will not be my
fault, I assure you. I am terribly nervous since our chimney was on
fire, as I told you; so I got up, and hunted about everywhere,
sniffing like a dog after game, and at last I noticed that my umbrella
was burning. Most likely a match had fallen between the folds and
burned it. You can see how it has damaged it."
The manager had taken his clue, and asked her:
"What do you estimate the damage at?"
She did not know what to say, as she was not certain what amount
to put on it, but at last she replied:
"Perhaps you had better get it done yourself. I will leave it to you."
He, however, naturally refused.
"No, Madame, I cannot do that. Tell me the amount of your claim,
that is all I want to know."
"Well!—I think that—Look here. Monsieur, I do not want to make any
money out of you, so I will tell you what we will do. I will take my
umbrella to the maker, who will re-cover it in good, durable silk, and
I will bring the bill to you. Will that suit you, Monsieur?"
"Perfectly, Madame; we will settle it on that basis. Here is a note for
the cashier, who will repay you whatever it costs you."
He gave Mme Oreille a slip of paper. She took it, got up, and went
out, thanking him, for she was in a hurry to escape lest he should
change his mind.
She went briskly through the streets, looking out for a really good
umbrella-maker, and when she found a shop which appeared to be a
first-class one, she went in, and said, confidently:
"I want this umbrella re-covered in silk, good silk. Use the very best
and strongest you have; I don't mind what it costs."

A MEETING

It was all an accident, a pure accident. Tired of standing, Baron

d'Étraille went—as all the Princess's rooms were open on that
particular evening—into an empty bedroom, which appeared almost
dark after coming-out of the brilliantly-lighted drawing-rooms.
He looked round for a chair in which to doze, as he was sure his wife
would not go away before daylight. As soon as he got inside the
door he saw the big bed with its azure-and-gold hangings, in the
middle of the great room, looking like a catafalque in which love was
buried, for the Princess was no longer young. Behind it, a large
bright spot looked like a lake seen at a distance from a window. It
was a big looking-glass, discreetly covered with dark draperies that
were sometimes let down, and often opened up, and it seemed to
look at the bed, which was its accomplice. One might almost fancy
that it felt regrets, and that one was going to see in it the charming
shapes of the thighs of women and the gentle movement of arms
about to embrace them.
The Baron stood still for a moment, smiling and rather moved, on
the threshold of this chamber dedicated to love. But suddenly
something appeared in the looking-glass, as if the phantoms which
he had evoked had come up before him. A man and a woman who
had been sitting on a low couch hidden in the shade had risen, and
the polished surface, reflecting their figures, showed that they were
kissing each other before separating.
The Baron recognised his wife and the Marquis de Cervigné. He
turned and went away like a man fully master of himself, and waited
till it was day before taking away the Baronne. But he had no longer
any thoughts of sleeping.
As soon as they were alone, he said:
"Madame, I saw you just now in the Princess de Raynes's room. I
need say no more, for I am not fond either of reproaches, acts of
violence, or of ridicule. As I wish to avoid all such things, we shall
separate without any scandal. Our lawyers will settle your position
according to my orders. You will be free to live as you please when
you are no longer under my roof; but, as you will continue to bear
my name, I must warn you that should any scandal arise, I shall
show myself inflexible."
She tried to speak, but he stopped her, bowed, and left the room.
He was more astonished and sad than unhappy. He had loved her
dearly during the first period of their married life; but his ardour had
cooled, and now he often had a caprice, either in a theatre or in
society, though he always preserved a certain liking for the Baronne.
She was very young, hardly four-and-twenty, small, thin,—too thin,—
and very fair. She was a true Parisian doll: clever, spoiled, elegant,
coquettish, witty, with more charm than real beauty. He used to say
familiarly to his brother, when speaking of her:
"My wife is charming, attractive, but—there is nothing to lay hold of.
She is like a glass of champagne that is all froth—when you have got
to the wine it is very good, but there is too little of it, unfortunately."
He walked up and down the room in great agitation, thinking of a
thousand things. At one moment he felt in a great rage, and felt
inclined to give the Marquis a good thrashing, to horsewhip him
publicly, in the club. But he thought that would not do, it would not
be the thing; be would be laughed at, and not the other, and he felt
that his anger proceeded more from wounded vanity than from a
broken heart. So he went to bed, but could not get to sleep.
A few days afterward it was known in Paris that the Baron and
Baronne d'Étraille had agreed to an amicable separation on account
of incompatibility of temper. Nobody suspected anything, nobody
laughed, and nobody was astonished.
The Baron, however, to avoid meeting her, travelled for a year; then
he spent the summer at the seaside, and the autumn in shooting,
returning to Paris for the winter. He did not meet his wife once.
He did not even know what people said about her. At any rate, she
took care to save appearances, and that was all he asked for.
He got dreadfully bored, travelled again, restored his old castle of
Villebosc—which took him two years; then for over a year he
received relays of friends there, till at last, tired of all these
commonplace, so-called pleasures, he returned to his mansion in the
Rue de Lilles, just six years after their separation.
He was then forty-five, with a good crop of gray hair, rather stout,
and with that melancholy look of people who have been handsome,
sought after, much liked, and are deteriorating daily.
A month after his return to Paris he took cold on coming out of his
club, and had a bad cough, so his doctor ordered him to Nice for the
rest of the winter.
He started by the express on Monday evening. He was late, got to
the station only a very short time before the departure of the train,
and had barely time to get into a carriage, with only one other
occupant, who was sitting in a corner so wrapped in furs and cloaks
that he could not even make out whether it were a man or a
woman, as nothing of the figure could be seen. When he perceived
that he could not find out, he put on his travelling-cap, rolled himself
up in his rugs, and stretched himself out comfortably to sleep.
He did not wake up till the day was breaking, and looked
immediately at his fellow-traveller. He had not stirred all night, and
seemed still to be sound asleep.
M. d'Étraille made use of the opportunity to brush his hair and his
beard, and to try and freshen himself up a little generally, for a
night's travelling changes one's looks very much when one has
attained a certain age.
A great poet has said:
Quand on est jeune, on a des matins triomphants!
Then we wake up with a cool skin, a bright eye, and glossy hair.
When one grows older one wakes up in a very different state. Dull
eyes, red, swollen cheeks, dry lips, the hair and beard all
disarranged, impart an old, fatigued, worn-out look to the face.
The Baron opened his travelling dressing-case, made himself as tidy
as he could, and then waited.
The engine whistled and the train stopped, and his neighbour
moved. No doubt he was awake. They started off again, and then an
oblique ray of the sun shone into the carriage just on to the sleeper,
who moved again, shook himself, and then calmly showed his face.
It was a young, fair, pretty, stout woman, and the Baron looked at
her in amazement. He did not know what to believe. He could really
have sworn that it was his wife—but wonderfully changed for the
better: stouter—why, she had grown as stout as he was—only it
suited her much better than it did him.
She looked at him quietly, did not seem to recognise him, and then
slowly laid aside her wraps. She had that calm assurance of a
woman who is sure of herself, the insolent audacity of a first
awaking, knowing and feeling that she was in her full beauty and
freshness.
The Baron really lost his head. Was it his wife, or somebody else
who was as like her as any sister could be? As he had not seen her
for six years he might be mistaken.
She yawned, and he knew her by the gesture. She turned and
looked at him again, calmly, indifferently, as if she scarcely saw him,
and then looked out at the country again.
He was upset and dreadfully perplexed, and waited, looking at her
sideways, steadfastly.
Yes; it was certainly his wife. How could he possibly have doubted?
There could certainly not be two noses like that, and a thousand
recollections flashed through him, slight details of her body, a
beauty-spot on one of her limbs and another on her back. How often
he had kissed them! He felt the old feeling of the intoxication of love
stealing over him, and he called to mind the sweet odour of her skin,
her smile when she put her arms on to his shoulders, the soft
intonations of her voice, all her graceful, coaxing ways.
But how she had changed and improved! It was she and yet not
she. He thought her riper, more developed, more of a woman, more
seductive, more desirable, adorably desirable.
And this strange, unknown woman, whom he had accidentally met in
a railway-carriage belonged to him; he had only to say to her:
"I insist upon it."
He had formerly slept in her arms, existed only in her love, and now
he had found her again certainly, but so changed that he scarcely
knew her. It was another, and yet she at the same time. It was
another who had been born, formed, and grown since he had left
her. It was she, indeed; she whom he had possessed but whom he
found with her manners modified, her features more formed, her
smile less affected, her gestures surer. There were two women in
one, mingling a great deal of what was new and unknown with
many sweet recollections of the past. There was something
extraordinary, disturbing, exciting about it—a kind of mystery of love
in which there floated a delicious confusion. It was his wife in a new
body and in new flesh which his lips had never pressed.
And he remembered that in six or seven years everything changes in
us, only outlines can be recognised, and sometimes even they
disappear.
The blood, the hair, the skin, all change, and are reconstituted, and
when people have not seen each other for a long time they find,
when they meet, another totally different being, although it be the
same and bear the same name.
And the heart also can change. Ideas may be modified and renewed,
so that in forty years of life we may, by gradual and constant
transformations, become four or five totally new and different
beings.
He dwelt on this thought till it troubled him; it had first taken
possession of him when he surprised her in the Princess's room. He
was not the least angry; it was not the same woman that he was
looking at—that thin, excitable little doll of those days.
What was he to do? How should he address her? and what could he
say to her? Had she recognised him?
The train stopped again. He got up, bowed, and said: "Berthe, do
you want anything I can bring you?"
She looked at him from head to foot, and answered, without
showing the slightest surprise or confusion or anger, but with the
most perfect indifference:
"I do not want anything—thank you."
He got out and walked up and down the platform a little in order to
think, and, as it were, to recover his senses after a fall. What should
he do now? If he got into another carriage it would look as if he
were running away. Should he be gallant? That would look as if he
were asking for forgiveness. Should he speak as if he were her
master? He would look like a cad, and besides, he really had no right
to do so.
He got in again and took his place.
During his absence she had hastily arranged her dress and hair, and
was now lying stretched out on the seat, radiant, but without
showing any emotion.
He turned to her, and said: "My dear Berthe, since this singular
chance has brought us together after a separation of six years—a
quite friendly separation—are we to continue to look upon each
other as irreconcilable enemies? We are shut up together, tête-à-
tête, which is so much the better or so much the worse. I am not
going to get into another carriage, so don't you think it is preferable
to talk as friends till the end of our journey?"
She answered quite calmly again:
"Just as you please."
Then he suddenly stopped, really not knowing what to say; but as
he had plenty of assurance, he sat down on the middle seat, and
said:
"Well, I see I must court you; so much the better. It is, however,
really a pleasure, for you are charming. You cannot imagine how you
have improved in the last six years. I do not know any woman who
could give me that delightful sensation which I experienced just now
when you emerged from your wraps. I could really have thought
such a change impossible."
Without moving her head or looking at him, she said: "I cannot say
the same with regard to you; you have certainly deteriorated a great
deal."
He got red and confused, and then, with a smile of resignation, he
said:
"You are rather hard."
"Why?" was her reply. "I am only stating facts. I don't suppose you
intend to offer me your love? It must, therefore, be a matter of
perfect indifference to you what I think about you. But I see it is a
painful subject, so let us talk of something else. What have you been
doing since I last saw you?"
He felt rather out of countenance, and stammered:
"I? I have travelled, hunted, and grown old, as you see. And you?"
She said, quite calmly: "I have always kept up appearances, as you
ordered me."
He was very nearly saying something brutal, but he checked himself,
and kissed his wife's hand:
"And I thank you," he said.
She was surprised. He was indeed strong and always master of
himself.
He went on: "As you have acceded to my first request, shall we now
talk without any bitterness?"
She made a little gesture of disdain.
"Bitterness! I don't feel any; you are a complete stranger to me; I
am only trying to keep up a difficult conversation."
He was still looking at her, carried away in spite of her harshness,
and he felt seized with a brutal desire, the desire of the master.
Perceiving that she had hurt his feelings, she said:
"How old are you now? I thought you were younger than you look."
He grew rather pale:
"I am forty-five;" and then he added: "I forgot to ask after Princess
de Raynes. Are you still intimate with her?"
She looked at him as if she hated him:
"Yes, certainly I am. She is very well, thank you."
They remained sitting side by side, agitated and irritated. Suddenly
he said:
"My dear Berthe, I have changed my mind. You are my wife, and I
expect you to come with me to-day. You have, I think, improved
both morally and physically, and I am going to take you back again.
I am your husband and it is my right to do so."
She was quite taken aback, and looked at him, trying to divine his
thoughts; but his face was resolute and impenetrable.
"I am very sorry," she said, "but I have made other engagements."
"So much the worse for you," was his reply. "The law gives me the
power, and I mean to use it."
They were getting to Marseilles, and the train whistled and
slackened speed. The Baronne got up, carefully rolled up her wraps,
and then turning to her husband, she said:
"My dear Raymond, do not make a bad use of the tête-à-tête which
I had carefully prepared. I wished to take precautions, according to
your advice, so that I might have nothing to fear from you or from
other people, whatever might happen. You are going to Nice, are
you not?"
"I shall go wherever you go."
"Not at all; just listen to me, and I am sure that you will leave me in
peace. In a few moments, when we get to the station, you will see
the Princess de Raynes and the Comtesse Henriot waiting for me
with their husbands. I wished them to see us, and to know that we
had spent the night together in the railway-carriage. Don't be
alarmed; they will tell it everywhere as a most surprising fact.
"I told you just now that I had most carefully followed your advice
and saved appearances. Anything else does not matter, does it?
Well, in order to do so, I wished to be seen with you. You told me
carefully to avoid any scandal, and I am avoiding it, for, I am afraid
—I am afraid—"
She waited till the train had quite stopped, and as her friends ran up
to open the carriage door, she said:
"I am afraid that I am enceinte."
The Princess stretched out her arms to embrace her, and the
Baronne said, pointing to the Baron, who was dumb with
astonishment, and trying to get at the truth:
"You do not recognise Raymond? He has certainly changed a good
deal, and he agreed to come with me so that I might not travel
alone. We take little trips like this occasionally, like good friends who
cannot live together. We are going to separate here; he has had
enough of me already."
She put out her hand, which he took mechanically, and then she
jumped out on to the platform among her friends, who were waiting
for her.
The Baron hastily shut the carriage door, for he was too much
disturbed to say a word or come to any determination. He heard his
wife's voice, and their merry laughter as they went away.
He never saw her again, nor did he ever discover whether she had
told him a lie or was speaking the truth.

DECORATED!

Some people are born with a predominant instinct, with some

vocation or some desire aroused, from the very moment they begin
to speak or to think.
Ever since he was a child Monsieur Sacrement had only had one idea
in his head—to be decorated. When he was still quite a small boy he
used to wear a zinc Cross of the Legion of Honour just as other
children wear a soldier's cap, and he took his mother's hand in the
street with a proud look, sticking out his little chest with its red
ribbon and metal star so that it might show to advantage.
His studies were not a success, and he failed in his examination for
Bachelor of Arts; so, not knowing what to do, he married a pretty
girl, for he had plenty of money of his own.
They lived in Paris, like many rich middle-class people do, mixing
with their own particular set, without going among other people,
proud of knowing a Deputy, who might perhaps be a Minister some
day, while two heads of government departments were among their
friends.
But Monsieur Sacrement could not get rid of his one absorbing idea,
and he was very unhappy because he had not the right to wear a
little bit of coloured ribbon in his buttonhole.
When he met any men who were decorated on the Boulevards, he
looked at them askance, with intense jealousy. Sometimes, when he
had nothing to do in the afternoon, he would count them, and say to
himself: "Just let me see how many I shall meet between the
Madeleine and the Rue Drouot."
Then he would walk slowly, looking at every coat, with a practiced
eye, for the little bit of red ribbon, and when he had got to the end
of his walk he always said the numbers out loud. "Eight officers and
seventeen knights. As many as that! It is stupid to sow the Cross
broadcast in that fashion. I wonder how many I shall meet going
back?"
And he returned slowly, unhappy when the crowd of passers-by
interfered with his seeing them.
He knew the places where most of them were to be found. They
swarmed in the Palais Royal. Fewer were seen in the Avenue de
l'Opéra than in the Rue de la Paix, while the right side of the
Boulevard was more frequented by them than the left.
They also seemed to prefer certain cafés and theatres. Whenever he
saw a group of white-haired old gentlemen standing together in the
middle of the pavement, interfering with the traffic, he used to say
to himself: "They are officers of the Legion of Honour," and he felt
inclined to take off his hat to them.
He had often remarked that the officers had a different bearing from
mere knights. They carried their heads higher, and you felt that they
enjoyed greater official consideration, and a more widely-extended
importance.
Sometimes M. Sacrement would be seized with a furious hatred for
everyone who was decorated; he felt like a Socialist towards them.
Then, when he got home, excited at meeting so many Crosses,—just
like a poor hungry wretch is on passing some dainty provision-shop,
—he used to ask in a loud voice:
"When shall we get rid of this wretched government?" And his wife
would be surprised, and ask:
"What is the matter with you to-day?"
"I am indignant," he would reply, "at the injustice I see going on
around us. Oh! the Communards were certainly right!"
After dinner he would go out again and look at the shops where all
the decorations were sold, and examine all the emblems of various
shapes and colours. He would have liked to possess them all, and to
have walked gravely at the head of a procession with his opera-hat
under his arm and his breast covered with decorations, radiant as a
star, amid a buzz of admiring whispers and a hum of respect. But,
alas! he had no right to wear any decoration whatever.
He used to say to himself: "It is really too difficult for any man to
obtain the Legion of Honour unless he is some public functionary.
Suppose I try to get appointed an officer of the Academy!"
But he did not know how to set about it, and spoke to his wife on
the subject, who was stupefied.
"Officer of the Academy! What have you done to deserve it?"
He got angry. "I know what I am talking about; I only want to know
how to set about it. You are quite stupid at times."
She smiled. "You are quite right; I don't understand anything about
it."
An idea struck him: "Suppose you were to speak to M. Rosselin, the
Deputy, he might be able to advise me. You understand I cannot
broach the subject to him directly. It is rather difficult and delicate,
but coming from you it might seem quite natural."
Mme Sacrement did what he asked her, and M. Rosselin promised to
speak to the Minister about it. Then Sacrement began to worry him,
till the Deputy told him he must make a formal application and put
forward his claims.
"What were his claims?" he said. "He was not even a Bachelor of
Arts."
However, he set to work and produced a pamphlet, with the title,
"The People's Right to Instruction," but he could not finish it for
want of ideas.
He sought for easier subjects, and began several in succession. The
first was, "The Instruction of Children by Means of the Eye." He
wanted gratuitous theatres to be established in every poor quarter of
Paris for little children. Their parents were to take them there when
they were quite young, and, by means of a magic-lantern, all the
notions of human knowledge were to be imparted to them. There
were to be regular courses. The sight would educate the mind, while
the pictures would remain impressed on the brain, and thus science
would, so to say, be made visible. What could be more simple than
to teach universal history, natural history, geography, botany,
zoölogy, anatomy, etc., etc., thus?
He had his ideas printed in tract form, and sent a copy to each
Deputy, ten to each Minister, fifty to the President of the Republic,
ten to each Parisian, and five to each provincial newspaper.
Then he wrote on "Street Lending-Libraries." His idea was to have
little carts full of books drawn about the streets, like orange-carts
are. Every householder or lodger would have a right to ten volumes
a month by means of a half-penny subscription.
"The people," M. Sacrement said, "will only disturb itself for the sake
of its pleasures, and since it will not go to instruction, instruction
must come to it," etc., etc.
His essays attracted no attention, but he sent in his application, and
he got the usual formal official reply. He thought himself sure of
success, but nothing came of it.
Then he made up his mind to apply personally. He begged for an
interview with the Minister of Public Instruction, and he was received
by a young subordinate, already very grave and important, who kept
touching the buttons of electric-bells to summon ushers, and
footmen, and officials inferior to himself. He declared to the
applicant that his case was going on quite favourably, and advised
him to continue his remarkable labours. So M. Sacrement set at it
again.
M. Rosselin, the Deputy, seemed now to take a great interest in his
success, and gave him a lot of excellent, practical advice. Rosselin
was decorated, although nobody knew exactly what he had done to
deserve such a distinction.
He told Sacrement what new studies he ought to undertake; he
introduced him to learned Societies which took up particularly
obscure points of science, in the hope of gaining credit and honours
thereby; and he even took him under his wing at the Ministry.
One day, when he came to lunch with his friend (for several months
past he had constantly taken his meals there), he said to him in a
whisper as he shook hands: "I have just obtained a great favour for
you. The Committee on Historical Works is going to intrust you with
a commission. There are some researches to be made in various
libraries in France."
Sacrement was so delighted that he could scarcely eat or drink, and
a week later he set out. He went from town to town, studying
catalogues, rummaging in lofts full of dusty volumes, and was a bore
to all the librarians.
One day, happening to be at Rouen, he thought he should like to
embrace his wife, whom he had not seen for more than a week, so
he took the nine o'clock train, which would land him at home by
twelve at night.
He had his latchkey, so he went in without making any noise,
delighted at the idea of the surprise he was going to give her. She
had locked herself in. How tiresome! However, he cried out through
the door:
"Jeanne, it is I."
She must have been very frightened, for he heard her jump out of
bed and speak to herself, as if she were in a dream. Then she went
to her dressing-room, opened and closed the door, and went quickly
up and down her room barefoot two or three times, shaking the
furniture till the vases and glasses sounded. Then at last she asked:
"Is it you, Alexander?"
"Yes, yes," he replied; "make haste and open the door."
As soon as she had done so she threw herself into his arms,
exclaiming:
"Oh! what a fright! What a surprise! What a pleasure!"
He began to undress himself methodically, as he did everything, and
from a chair he took his overcoat, which he was in the habit of
hanging up in the hall. But, suddenly, he remained motionless,
struck dumb with astonishment—there was a red ribbon in the
buttonhole!
"Why," he stammered, "this—this—this overcoat has got the rosette
in it!"
In a second his wife threw herself on him, and, taking it from his
hands, she said:
"No! you have made a mistake—give it to me."
But he still held it by one of the sleeves, without letting it go,
repeating, in a half-dazed manner:
"Oh! Why? Just explain. Whose overcoat is it? It is not mine, as it
has the Legion of Honour on it."
She tried to take it from him, terrified, and hardly able to say:
"Listen—listen—give it to me—I must not tell you—it is a secret—
listen to me."
But he grew angry, and turned pale:
"I want to know how this overcoat comes to be here? It does not
belong to me."
Then she almost screamed at him:
"Yes it does; listen—swear to me—well—you are decorated."
She did not intend to joke at his expense.
He was so overcome that he let the overcoat fall, and dropped into
an armchair.
"I am—you say I am—decorated?"
"Yes, but it is a secret, a great secret."
She had put the glorious garment into a cupboard, and came to her
husband pale and trembling.
"Yes," she continued, "it is a new overcoat that I have had made for
you. But I swore that I would not tell you anything about it, as it will
not be officially announced for a month or six weeks, and you were
not to have known till your return from your business journey. M.
Rosselin managed it for you."
"Rosselin!" he contrived to utter in his joy; "he has obtained the
decoration for me? He—Oh!"
And he was obliged to drink a glass of water.
A little piece of white paper had fallen to the floor out of the pocket
of the overcoat. Sacrement picked it up; it was a visiting-card, and
he read out:
"Rosselin—Deputy."
"You see how it is," said his wife.
He wept with joy, and, a week later, it was announced in the
"Journal Officiel" that M. Sacrement had been awarded the Legion of
Honour on account of his exceptional services.

CHÂLI

Admiral de la Vallée, who seemed to be half asleep in his armchair,

said in a voice which sounded like an old woman's:
"I had a very singular little love adventure once; would you like to
hear it?"
He spoke from the depths of his great armchair, with that everlasting
dry, wrinkled smile on his lips, that Voltairian smile which made
people take him for a terrible sceptic.

I
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