f and forbidding manner of Monsieur and Madame de Lanty left me no
other supposition.

Naturally, I did not call again; but a few months later, when I
exhibited my Pandora in the salon of 1837, I one day saw the whole
Lanty family approach it. The mother was on the arm of Comte Maxime de
Trailles, a well-known lion. _Nil admirari_ is the natural instinct
of all men of the world; so, after a very cursory glance at my work,
Monsieur de Trailles began to find shocking faults in it, and in so
high and clear a voice that not a word was lost within a certain range.
Marianina shrugged her shoulders as she listened to this profound
discourse, and when it was ended she said,--

"How fortunate you came with us! Without your enlightened knowledge
I might, with the rest of the good public, have thought this statue
admirable. It is a pity the sculptor is not here to learn his business
from you."

"He _is_ here, behind you," said a stout woman, who had once been
my landlady, and was standing near, laughing heartily. Involuntarily
Marianina turned; when she saw me a vivid color came into her cheeks,
and I slipped away into the crowd. A girl who took my part so warmly,
and then showed such emotion on being detected in doing so, could not be
absolutely indifferent to me; and as on my first visit I had only, after
all, been coldly received, I decided, after my great success at the
Exhibition, in consequence of which I was made a chevalier of the Legion
of honor, to call again upon the Lantys; perhaps my new distinctions
would procure me a better reception.

Monsieur de Lanty received me without rising, and with the following
astounding apostrophe:--

"I think you very courageous, monsieur, to venture to present yourself
here."

"I have never been received in a manner that seemed to require courage
on my part."

"You have come, no doubt," continued Monsieur de Lanty, "in search of
your property which you were careless enough to leave in our hands. I
shall return you that article of gallantry."

So saying, he rose and took from a drawer in his secretary an elegant
little portfolio, which he gave to me.

As I looked at it in a sort of stupefaction, he added:

"Yes; I know the letters are not there; I presume you will allow me to
keep them."

"This portfolio, the letters you mention--all this is an enigma to me,
monsieur."

At this moment Madame de Lanty entered the room.

"What do you want?" said her husband, roughly.

"