lected that he could not avoid me this time, and
that was all I desired.

As I did not know his address, I asked Brigitte for it, pretending that
I felt under an obligation to call on him after all the visits he
had made us; I had not said a word about my experience at the opera.
Brigitte's eyes betrayed signs of tears. When I entered her room she
held out her hand and said:

"What do you wish?"

Her voice was sad but tender. We exchanged a few kind words, and I set
out less unhappy.

The name of the young man I was going to see was Smith; he was living
near us. When I knocked at his door, I experienced a strange sensation
of uneasiness; I was dazed as though by a sudden flash of light. His
first gesture froze my blood. He was in bed, and with the same accent
Brigitte had employed, with a face as pale and haggard as hers, he held
out his hand and said:

"What do you wish?"

Say what you please, there are things in a man's life which reason can
not explain. I sat as still as if awakened from a dream, and began to
repeat his questions. Why, in fact, had I come to see him? How could I
tell him what had brought me there? Even if he had anything to tell me,
how did I know he would speak? He had brought letters from N------, and
knew those who had written them. But it cost me an effort to question
him, and I feared he would suspect what was in my mind. Our first
words were polite and insignificant. I thanked him for his kindness in
bringing letters to Madame Pierson; I told him that upon leaving France
we would ask him to do the same favor for us; and then we were silent,
surprised to find ourselves vis-a-vis.

I looked about me in embarrassment. His room was on the fourth floor;
everything indicated honest and industrious poverty. Some books,
musical instruments, papers, a table and a few chairs, that was all, but
everything was well cared for and presented an agreeable ensemble.

As for him, his frank and animated face predisposed me in his favor. On
the mantel I observed a picture of an old lady. I stepped up to look at
it, and he said it was his mother.

I then recalled that Brigitte had often spoken of him; she had known
him since childhood. Before I came to the country she used to see him
occasionally at N------, but at the time of her last visit there he
was away. It was, therefore, only by chance that I had learned some
particulars of his life, which now came to mind. He had an honest
employment that enabl