cast clown his eyes.
Waiting the answer, he joined his hands, and began to twiddle his
thumbs. Hardy opened the letter, and read as follows:

"SIR,--I have only just heard, by mere chance, that you also inhabit
this respectable house: a long illness, and the retirement in which I
live, will explain my ignorance of your being so near. Though we have
only met once, sir, the circumstance which led to that meeting was of so
serious a nature, that I cannot think you have forgotten it."

Hardy stopped, and tasked his memory for an explanation, and not finding
anything to put him on the right track, he continued to read:

"This circumstance excited in me a feeling of such deep and respectful
sympathy for you, sir, that I cannot resist my anxious desire to wait
upon you, particularly as I learn, that you intend leaving this house to
day--a piece of information I have just derived from the excellent and
worthy Abbe Gabriel, one of the men I most love, esteem, and reverence.
May I venture to hope, sir, that just at the moment of quitting our
common retreat to return to the world, you will deign to receive
favorably the request, however intrusive, of a poor old man, whose life
will henceforth be passed in solitude, and who cannot therefore have
any prospect of meeting you, in that vortex of society which he has
abandoned forever. Waiting the honor of your answer, I beg you to
accept, sir, the assurance of the sentiments of high esteem with which I
remain, sir, with the deepest respect,

"Your very humble and most obedient servant,

"RODIN."

After reading this letter and the signature of the writer, Hardy
remained for some time in deep thought, without being able to recollect
the name of Rodin, or to what serious circumstances he alluded.

After a silence of some duration, he said to the servant "M. Rodin gave
you this letter?"

"Yes, sir."

"And who is M. Rodin?"

"A good old gentleman, who is just recovering from a long illness, that
almost carried him off. Lately, he has been getting better, but he is
still so weak and melancholy, that it makes one sad to see him. It is a
great pity, for there is not a better and more worthy gentleman in the
house--unless it be you, sir," added the servant, bowing with an air of
flattering respect.

"M. Rodin;" said Hardy, thoughtfully. "It is singular, that I should not
remember the name nor any circumstance connected with it."

"If you will give me your answer, sir," resumed th