her Bunch, with
embarrassment, casting down her eyes and blushing, "does not lead a very
regular life. A person, with whom she has gone on several parties of
pleasure, one M. Dumoulin, had informed her of the real name of M.
Rodin, who has a kind of lodging in that house, and there goes by the
name of Charlemagne."

"That is just what he told us at Dr. Baleinier's; and, the day before
yesterday, when I again alluded to the circumstance, he explained to
me the necessity in which he was, for certain reasons, to have a humble
retreat in that remote quarter--and I could not but approve of his
motives."

"Well, then! yesterday, M. Rodin received a visit from the Abbe
d'Aigrigny."

"The Abbe d'Aigrigny!" exclaimed Mdlle. de Cardoville.

"Yes, madame; he remained for two hours shut up with M. Rodin."

"My child, you must have been deceived."

"I was told, madame, that the Abbe d'Aigrigny had called in the morning
to see M. Rodin; not finding him at home, he had left with the portress
his name written on a slip of paper, with the words, 'I shall return
in two hours.' The girl of whom I spoke, madame, had seen this slip of
paper. As all that concerns M. Rodin appears mysterious enough, she
had the curiosity to wait for M. d'Aigrigny in the porter's lodge, and,
about two hours afterwards, he indeed returned, and saw M. Rodin."

"No, no," said Adrienne, shuddering; "it is impossible. There must be
some mistake."

"I think not, madame; for, knowing how serious such a discovery would
be, I begged the young girl to describe to me the appearance of M.
d'Aigrigny."

"Well?"

"The Abbe d'Aigrigny, she told me, is about forty years of age. He is
tall and upright, dresses plainly, but with care; has gray eyes, very
large and piercing, thick eyebrows, chestnut-colored hair, a face
closely shaved, and a very decided aspect."

"It is true," said Adrienne, hardly able to believe what she heard. "The
description is exact."

"Wishing to have all possible details," resumed Mother Bunch, "I asked
the portress if M. Rodin and the Abbe d'Aigrigny appeared to be at
variance when they quitted the house? She replied no, but that the
Abbe said to M. Rodin, as they parted at the door: 'I will write to you
tomorrow, as agreed.'"

"Is it a dream? Good heaven!" said Adrienne, drawing her hands across
her forehead in a sort of stupor. "I cannot doubt your word, my poor
friend; and yet it is M. Rodin who himself sent you to that house, to