My uncle is going to send for another of my aunts to come to Paris.

Well! what of that?--My uncle is a Mussulman, you know; and, being a man
of principle, his duties are more onerous than yours, that's all!

My services were required to take a little house at Passy, where she is
to live. I wonder whether it is my aunt Gretchen, my aunt Euphrosine, or
my aunt Cora? He has not given me the slightest hint on this point.

While awaiting this addition to our family, Barbassou-Pasha pursues his
eccentric career in a manner that beats description. This visit to Paris
has brought out more than ever the quaint independence of his
character. One is reminded of a man who stands on a bridge watching the
river flow by, but now and then takes a header into it to cool himself.
The other day at the club, he lost sixty-three thousand francs to me at
baccarat, just for a little distraction. The evening after, he was
entertaining at our house his late Lieutenant Rabassu, whom he always
speaks of as "the cause of his death," and who has come here upon some
business. He won eleven francs from him at piquet, playing for a franc
the hundred points. For the moment I felt quite alarmed for the poor
victim! But my mind was soon set at ease; for Rabassu, who is used to
his captain's play, knows how to cheat as cleverly as his master. Their
losses soon balanced each other.