e; she declared it was not. He made a move
for his workshop; she pulled him back by the sleeve, made him laugh and
give his consent.

"Antoine," she insisted, "we owe our marriage to Monsieur Mouillard; you
must at least pay what you owe."

I was delighted. Still, a doubt seized me.

"Sylvestre," I said to Lampron, who already had his hand upon the
door-handle, "do you really think she will come?"

"I hope so; but I will not answer for it. To make certain, some one must
send word to her: 'Mademoiselle Jeanne, your portrait is at the Salon.'
If you know any one who would not mind taking this message to the Rue de
l'Universite--"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"Come on, then, and trust to luck."

"Rue de l'Universite, did you say?" broke in little Madame Plumet, who
certainly took the liveliest interest in my cause.

"Yes; why?"

"Because I have a friend in the neighborhood, and perhaps--"

I risked giving her the number and name under the seal of secrecy; and
it was a good thing I did so.

In three minutes she had concocted a plan. It was like this: her friend
lived near the hotel in the Rue de l'Universite, a porter's wife of
advanced years, and quite safe; by means of her it might be possible to
hint to Mademoiselle Jeanne that her portrait, or something like it, was
to be seen at the Salon--discreetly, of course, and as if it were the
merest piece of news.

What a plucky, clever little woman it is! Surely I was inspired when I
did her that service. I never thought I should be repaid. And here I am
repaid both capital and interest.

Yet I hesitated. She snatched my consent.

"No, no," said she, "leave me to act. I promise you, Monsieur Mouillard,
that she shall hear of it, and you, Monsieur Lampron, that the picture
shall be framed."

She showed us to the top of the stairs, did little Madame Plumet,
pleased at having won over her husband, at having shown herself so
cunning, and at being employed in a conspiracy of love. In the street
Lampron shook me by the hand. "Good-by, my friend," he said; "happy men
don't need company. Four days hence, at noon, I shall come to fetch you,
and we will pay our first visit to the Salon together."

Yes, I was a happy man! I walked fast, without seeing anything, my eyes
lost in day dreams, my ears listening to celestial harmonies. I seemed
to wear a halo. It abashed me somewhat; for there is something insolent
in proclaiming on the housetops: "Look up at me, my heart is fu