Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. Seizing her hand he covered it with kisses. You shall hear from me to-morrow. ” She paused for a moment.
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