me is Count Volpati di Treviso."

"Give me your address, and I will come and tell you who I am, for I
cannot do so here."

"Here it is."

After leaving the count I continued my progress through this wonderful
hall, and two or three hours after I was attracted by the voice of a
female masquer speaking Parisian French in a high falsetto, such as is
common at an opera ball.

I did not recognize the voice but I knew the style, and felt quite
certain that the masquer must be one of my old friends, for she spoke
with the intonations and phraseology which I had rendered popular in my
chief places of resort at Paris.

I was curious to see who it could be, and not wishing to speak before I
knew her, I had the patience to wait till she lifted her mask, and this
occurred at the end of an hour. What was my surprise to see Madame Baret,
the stocking-seller of the Rue St. Honor& My love awoke from its long
sleep, and coming up to her I said, in a falsetto voice,--

"I am your friend of the 'Hotel d'Elbeuf.'"

She was puzzled, and looked the picture of bewilderment. I whispered in
her ear, "Gilbert Baret, Rue des Prouveres," and certain other facts
which could only be known to herself and a fortunate lover.

She saw I knew her inmost secrets, and drawing me away she begged me to
tell her who I was.

"I was your lover, and a fortunate one, too," I replied; "but before I
tell you my name, with whom are you, and how are you?"

"Very well; but pray do not divulge what I tell you. I left Paris with M.
d'Anglade, counsellor in the Court of Rouen. I lived happily enough for
some time with him, and then left him to go with a theatrical manager,
who brought me here as an actress under the name of de l'Anglade, and now
I am kept by Count Rzewuski, the Polish ambassador. And now tell me who
you are?"

Feeling sure of enjoying her again, I lifted my mask. She gave a cry of
joy, and exclaimed,--

"My good angel has brought you to St. Petersburg."

"How do you mean?"

"Rzewuski is obliged to go back to Poland, and now I count on you to get
me out of the country, for I can no longer continue in a station for
which I was not intended, since I can neither sing nor act."

She gave me her address, and I left her delighted with my discovery.
After having passed half an hour at the counter, eating and drinking of
the best, I returned to the crowd and saw my fair stocking-seller talking
to Count Volpati. He had seen her with me, and hast