IN J WINTER CITY. 387
grebe ; about one hundred and fifty bfrds, happy,
peaceful, and innocent under their native skies,
had died to trim the wrap, and it would probably
be worn about half-a-dozen times; for feathers
are so very soon tumbled, as everybody knows.
" They are quite mad, both of them ! " said
the little lady, giving her small fingers in adieu,
and turning to see that Maurice had all the
things she wanted, and was duly hooking them
on to her ceinture of oxydised silver.
She travelled with her two maids, a courier,
and a footman, but none of them did as much
hard work as the indefatigable Maurice.
" Perhaps, Madame," said the Due, who in¬
deed thought so himself; but was not going to
admit it too strongly of two persons who, despite
their lamentable weakness, remained his fa¬
vourites. " But if a few people were not mad
occasionally there would be no chance for the
sanitj' of the world."
" Well, thej' •will repent horrilily, that is one
comfort; she most of all," said Madame Mila,
with asperity. " She ought to have been prevented;
"reated for lunacy, you know; in France they