“PHILIPPE AUVRAY.

  “Rue Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonneret, fifth floor. There are three doors; mine is the one that has a hare’s foot hung on it.”

  “Do you follow me, Amaury? although I did not ask for a reply, which perhaps might have been over presumptuous, I took care to give my address, because how could I tell that my lovely neighbour might not perhaps be softened by my letter, and surprise me by sending a reply?”

  “Why, certainly,” replied Amaury, “it was a wise precaution.”

  “A useless one, at any rate, my friend, as you will soon see.

  “This ingenious and impassioned letter concluded, there only remained to send it to its destination; but how? by what means? By special delivery? But I did not know my divinity’s name.

  “By giving the porter half-a-crown to deliver it to her? But I had heard of porters who could not be bribed.

  “By an errand boy? This was rather prosaic and a trifle risky, because he might present himself when the brother was there.

  “I had long since made up my mind that this young man must be her brother.

  “I thought at one time of confiding in you, but as I felt that you knew much more about these things than I, I was afraid you might laugh at me. The result was that although the letter was written, sealed, and ready on the table, two days passed by, and still I was undecided.

  “On the evening of the third day, taking advantage of an hour when my charmer was away from home, to sit at my window, and look into her room, the casement of which stood open, I noticed a leaf drop from one of her roses, and borne by the wind, fly across the road, and bruise itself against the window panes of the lower floor.

  “An acorn falling on Newton’s nose, revealed to him the law of gravitation. A rose-leaf blown by the caprice of the wind disclosed to me the means of communication which I sought.

  “I rolled my letter round a stick of sealing-wax, and threw it dexterously across the road, from my room into that of my neighbour; then, quite excited by my unusual boldness, I closed my window hurriedly and waited.

  “No sooner had I put this bold plan into execution than I shuddered from fear of the consequences.

  “Should my neighbour return with her brother, and should this brother find the letter, she would be terribly compromised.

  “I waited, therefore, hidden behind the curtains, and consumed with anxiety, until she should return home. Suddenly she appeared, and I breathed more freely when I saw she was alone.

  “She walked about her room as usual, with a light, jaunty step, without seeing my letter.

  “But at last she stepped on it accidentally — stooped and picked it up.

  “My heart beat to suffocation, and I compared myself to Lauzun, Richelieu, or Lovelace.

  “As I have already said, it was getting dusk; she came to the window to try and reconnoitre from what part of the street could come this letter which she held in her hands, then she began to read it.

  “I thought that now was the time to show myself, and thus by my presence complete the effect which my letter could not fail to produce. I therefore threw open my window.

  “At the sound my neighbour turned towards me, looking from me to the letter, and from the letter to me.

  “By a series of suggestive signs, I gave her to understand that I was the author of the epistle, and clasped my hands together, as if beseeching her to read it.

  “For one moment she seemed to hesitate, then eventually made up her mind.

  “What to do?

  “By Jove! to read it!

  “I watched her unroll my letter with the tips of her fingers, then look at me again, then smile, then read the first lines, then smile more broadly, then continue reading, and finally laugh outright.

  “This merriment at first somewhat disconcerted me.

  “But as she read the letter from beginning to end, by the time she had finished, I took heart again — when, to my horror, I saw her about to tear it up. I was going to shout, when it suddenly occurred to me that the reason for this extraordinary precaution on her part with regard to my letter was the fear her brother might come in and surprise her. I thought this showed wonderful foresight, and clapped my hands. Yet she seemed to set about tearing up my letter with unaccountable spitefulness; she first tore it in four, good; in eight, good again; but in sixteen, in thirty-two, in sixty-four, in tiny pieces, that was beyond a joke; and when she ended by reducing it to atoms, it was sheer cruelty.

  “Nevertheless, this is what she did; when the minuteness of the pieces no longer allowed her to multiply them any more, she opened her hand and dropped this epistolary shower on the passers-by. Then, frankly laughing in my face for the second time, she closed her window, whilst an insolent puff of wind blew back to me a shred of my paper and my eloquence. And which was it? my dear boy! that on which the word ‘silly’ stood out as plain as print.

  “I was furious; but as, after all, she was innocent of this last mischance, and seeing that I could only avenge myself for this insult on one of the four winds of heaven, I too closed my window in a most dignified manner, and set myself to think- out the best way to overcome such unusual reluctance on the part of a member of the honourable company of grisettes.

  CHAPTER XI.

  “THE first ideas that came into my head were a natural result of the state of exasperation in which I now found - myself, — a series of the most extravagant combinations, the wildest resolutions. I went over in my mind all the famous love catastrophes which have astonished the world, from Othello to Antony.

  “Still, before resolving on any definite plan of action, I decided to wait till morning, remembering the old adage:

  “‘Sleep on it ‘ —

  “And, in truth, next morning I woke perfectly calm.

  “My wild plans had given place to resolutions infinitely more parliamentary, as we say nowadays, and I determined upon the following course of action, — to wait till evening, then go and knock at her door; as soon as it was opened, draw the bolts behind me, throw myself at her feet, and repeat to her in person all that I had told her in writing.

  “Should she reject me, well, it would then be time to have recourse to more extreme measures.

  “The plan did not lack in boldness, but the author of it did.

  “That evening I went resolutely as far as the bottom of my staircase, but could I get no farther.

  “The next day, I went up to the second floor, but could not summon up courage to go any higher.

  “The third day, I got as far as her landing, but once arrived there, my audacity had reached its limit; like Cherubino, I dared not dare.

  “Finally, on the fourth evening, I vowed to go through with it, cursing my stupidity and cowardice in having behaved so foolishly on the previous evenings.

  “I then went into a café and drank off, one after the other, six cups of black coffee, then, strengthened by this three francs’ worth of energy, I dashed up the three flights, and with a feverish hand, not allowing myself time either to reflect or to grope about, I pulled at the bell.

  “The moment I heard it ring, I felt ready to throw myself from the top to bottom of the staircase, but I remembered my oath.

  “Some one was coming — the door opened — I rushed headlong into a dimly- lit passage, turned the key in the lock, and in a fairly resolute voice, considering the exceptional position in which I found myself, I cried:

  “‘Mademoiselle!’

  “But scarcely had I uttered the word ere a strong hand seized me; I was hurried into a front room, and brought face to face with her whom I sought, and who at my approach rose graciously, whilst my friend Amaury said:

  “‘My little girl, allow me to introduce to you my friend, Philip Auvray, a thoroughly good fellow who lives opposite you, and who has been wishing to know you for a long time.’

  “You know the rest, my dear Amaury; I stayed ten minutes in your delightful society, but heard nothing, my ears tingled so; neither did I see anything, such a mist was there before my eyes; eventually I got up, mumbled something, and took myself off, followed by gusts of uncontrollable laughter from pretty Miss Florence, and a request to come again some other day.”

  “Well! old man, of what use to recall this episode? I remember you were cool towards me for a long time after; but I thought you had long since forgiven me.”

  “And so I have, old fellow, but I frankly own that nothing less than your offer to introduce me into your guardian’s home, together with your solemn promise that in future you would do anything for me which lay in your power, would have satisfied me. Well! I wished to remind you of your offence, Amaury, before reminding you of your promise.”

  “My dear Philip,” Amaury laughingly replied, “I repent of the one, I remember the other, and I await my day of expiation.”

  “Well! the day has now arrived,” solemnly replied Philip. “I am in love, Amaury! — ”

  “Ah! nonsense!” cried Amaury, “can you be in earnest?”

  “Yes! “Philip resumed, in the same magisterial tone, “but this time I do not mean a student’s love. Mine is an earnest, deep, lasting love, which can only end with my life.”

  Amaury smiled, he was thinking of Antoinette.

  “And you wish me,” said he “to act as interpreter of your love? Unhappy man, you make me quake! However, go on. Since when have you been in love, and who is the object of your affection?”

  “Who is she, Amaury? It is no longer question of a grisette, whose heart can be taken by storm, but of a girl of gentle birth, to whom nothing less than a sacred tie can unite me. I have hesitated long before mentioning the subject even to you, my best friend; but, after all, though not of noble birth, I come from a good and honourable family. Last year, when my dear old uncle died, he left me twenty thousand francs a year, and his house at Enghien; I therefore come to you, Amaury, my friend, my brother, to you who owe me, as you have already acknowledged, reparation for ancient wrongs, — wrongs which were greater than you knew; I come to beg of you to solicit the hand of Mademoiselle Madeleine from your guardian.”

  “Good Heavens! what are you talking about, my poor Philip!” exclaimed Amaury.

  “I tell you,” repeated Philip in the same solemn tone, “I tell you that I come to beg you, my friend, my brother, you who owe me, as you have already acknowledged, reparation for many wrongs, I repeat, that I come to beg of you to solicit for me the hand — ”

  “Of Madeleine?” continued Amaury. “Exactly.”

  “Of Madeleine d’Avrigny?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “Then it is not Antoinette you are in love with?”

  “I have never given her a thought.”

  “And you love Madeleine?”

  “Yes! Madeleine; and I come to beg you — ”

  “But, unlucky man,” cried Amaury, “you are again too late! I love her too.”

  “You love her?”

  “Yes! and — ”

  “And what?”

  “I made proposals for her yesterday, and was accepted.”

  “For Madeleine?”

  “Yes! exactly.”

  “Madeleine d’Avrigny?”

  “Exactly.”

  Philip flung up his arms, like a man struck with apoplexy; then dazed, stunned, choking, he rose unsteadily to his feet, mechanically took up his hat and went away without saying another word.

  Full of pity, Amaury thought at first of going after him. But just then ten o’clock struck, and he remembered that Madeleine expected him at eleven.

  CHAPTER XII.

  MONSIEUR D’AVRIGNY’S DIARY

  “15th May.”

  “THANK God! I may still be with my child. It is decided that they are to stay with me, or rather I shall stay with them; I am to go where they go; live where they live.

  “They wish to winter in Italy, or rather, with anxious foresight, I have suggested this to them; I shall therefore resign my post of physician to the King, and go with them.

  “Since Madeleine considers herself sufficiently wealthy, I too am satisfied.

  “Good Heavens! what do I want with more money? If I have accumulated, it was only that I might have still more to give her.

  “I know that many people will be astonished at my departure; that in the interests of science they will wish to retain my services, and will reproach me for forsaking my practice. But what care I for all this?

  “The only one who needs my entire care is my daughter. Not only is this my greatest happiness, it is likewise my duty; I am indispensable to my two children; I shall look after their money matters.

  “My darling is one of the most beautiful women, she must also be one of the most envied, and for all this, and more, their fortune must suffice.

  “We shall take a palace at Naples, on the Villa Reale, with a good Southern aspect.

  “There my Madeleine will blossom like a flower transplanted to its native soil.

  “I shall arrange their entertainments, look after their household, be in fact their steward; it is all arranged; I am to free them from all the material cares of life.

  “All they will have to do will be to love each other, and be happy; and that will be quite enough for them.

  “This is not all; I intend that this journey, which at first sight seems but a pleasure trip, may serve to arouse Amaury’s ambition. Though he knows nothing of it, I asked the Minister yesterday to entrust him with a secret mission of the highest importance, and this I have obtained for him.

  “And the experience I have gained in my thirty years’ association with men of good position, in my thirty years’ close observation of men and manners, I shall now put at his service. Not only will I help in this work he is given to do, I will do it entirely for him. I will sow the seed, that he may reap the harvest.

  “In short, as my fortune, my life, my self belong to my daughter, on him too I bestow the same.

  “Everything to them, everything for them; for myself I keep nothing except the right to see Madeleine sometimes smile upon me, to hear her voice, to know that she is happy.

  “I shall be with her, that is my constant thought; so incessantly do I dwell upon this that I forget the Institut, my practice, the King himself, who has to-day sent to enquire whether I am ill. I forget all else, except my hospitals; my other patients are wealthy, and can easily call in another doctor, but my poor, if I were not there, who would look after them?

  “And yet I shall have to leave them when I accompany my daughter. Sometimes I question whether it is right of me to go. And yet it were strange if my first duty were to others in preference to my own child.

  “It is incredible, so weak-minded are we, how sometimes we men question the very simplest things.

  “I must ask Cruveilhier or Jaubert to replace me, and then my mind will be at rest.”

  “16th May.

  “They are really so joyous that I feel the reflex of their gladness, so happy that my heart warms at sight of their felicity, and although I know that the added warmth in her affection for me is but the overflow of her great love for him, there are moments when, poor forgetful fellow that I am, I deceive myself, — just as sometimes, when listening to a comedy, we are deceived by a story which we know has no truth in it.

  “He came here to-day, looking so radiant with joy that I, who was just then on my way to Madeleine’s room, remained in the hall, not wishing to mar the joy of their meeting.

  “Life holds so few such moments that it were a sinful shame, as people say, to begrudge them to those to whom they come.

  “Two minutes later they were walking in the garden — to them a Paradise.

  “They are more quiet there, and yet they are never alone. Still there are large trees behind which hand clasps hand, and shady walks where each may draw closer to the other.

  “I watched them from behind my window-curtain, and through the masses of lilac bloom saw their hands meet, their loving gaze melt in one another’s eyes; they seemed like everything around them to bud and grow and blossom.

  “Oh! springtime! childhood of the year 1

  “Oh! childhood! springtime of life.

  “And yet I dare not think without dread of the emotions which await my poor child, even though they may be happy ones; she is so weak, that she is crushed by joy as others are by sorrow.

  “Will her lover spare her, as her father would? Will he temper the wind, as I would, to the shorn lamb? Will he surround this fragile delicate flower with a warm, even atmosphere, — not too much sun, not too much storm?

  “This ardent young fellow, in the excess of his passionate love for my darling, may destroy in one short month the patient work of seventeen years.

  “Go then, my poor frail bark, since it must be so, breast the fury of this storm; happily I shall be your pilot, happily I shall not leave you. Were I to leave you, my poor Madeleine, of what use would be my life? Fragile and delicate as I know you to be, I should always be fretting lest you were in pain or on the verge of illness.

  “Who would be near to tell you at each hour of the day:

  “‘Madeleine, this noonday sun is too hot.’

  “‘Madeleine, this evening breeze is too chill.’

  “‘Madeleine, throw a scarf over your head.’

  “‘Madeleine, throw a shawl over your shoulders.’

  “No! he will love you, but will think of love alone; I shall think of how to prolong her life.”

  CHAPTER XIII

  “17th May.”

  ALAS! once again all my dreams have vanished! When I rose this morning, I thought this would have been one of the happiest days of my life, but God willed that it should be full of trouble.

  “Amaury came this morning, bright and gay as usual, and as usual I left them with Miss Brown, whilst I made my daily morning visits.

  “All day long, I have been happy in the thought that this evening I would tell Amaury of my plans, and of the appointment which I have secured for him. It was five o’clock when I came in, and they were just going to sit down to table.