Madame Theo, one of the most popular actresses in Paris, who is married, and whose reputation is above reproach, has for some time been subjected to a peculiar kind of persecution which threatens to deprive her of a favorite addition to her toilette. Shortly after her debut she wore a garland of magnificent white roses around her waist, and the next day a bouquet of these flowers was sent to her with the request that they might be worn that evening. Not wishing to encourage her unknown admirer, she appeared with red roses for ornament, and the following day a handsome bunch of red roses was left at her lodgings, with a note similar to that received by her on the previous day. That night she wore yellow roses, and yellow roses were sent to her on the succeeding morning. Then she adopted violets, then gardenias, and then chrysanthemums; but her still anonymous admirer kept up his disagreeable attentions, and as she is determined not to wear any flower that has been sent to her, she is driving the florists distracted by her demands for wreaths that can be properly worn about the waist. The correspondent who narrates this incident, says that Madame Theo is very much exercised over the identity of her persecutor, but can obtain no clue to him.

May it not be possible that her husband, in order to test her faithfulness, even in so little a matter, is the sender of these annoying bouquets? If he is, he certainly ought to have stopped with the chrysanthemums, and congratulated himself on the possession of his conjugal treasure.