clerk. Suddenly a dressmaker's
errand-girl set down her great oilcloth-covered box in my way. I nearly
went head first over it, and was preparing to walk around it, when the
little woman, red with haste and blushes, addressed me. "Excuse me, sir,
are you a lawyer?"

"No, Mademoiselle, not yet."

"Perhaps, sir, you know some lawyers?"

"To be sure I do; my master, to begin with, Counsellor Boule. He is
quite close, if you care to follow me."

"I am in a terrible hurry, but I can spare a minute or two. Thank you
very much, Monsieur."

And thus I found myself escorted by a small dressmaker and a box of
fashions. I remember that I walked a little ahead for fear of being
seen in such company by a fellow-clerk, which would have damaged my
reputation.

We got to the office. Down went the box again. The little dressmaker
told me that she was engaged to M. Plumet, frame-maker. She told her
tale very clearly; a little money put by, you see, out of ten years'
wages; one may be careful and yet be taken in; and, alas! all has been
lent to a cousin in the cabinetmaking trade, who wanted to set up shop;
and now he refuses to pay up. The dowry is in danger, and the marriage
in suspense.

"Do not be alarmed, Mademoiselle; we will summons this atrocious
cabinet-maker, and get a judgment against him. We shall not let him go
until he has disgorged, and you shall be Madame Plumet."

We kept our word. Less than two months later--thanks to my efforts--the
dowry was recovered; the banns were put up; and the little dressmaker
paid a second visit to the office, this time with M. Plumet, who was
even more embarrassed than she.

"See, Antoine! this is Monsieur Mouillard, who undertook our case! Thank
you again and again, Monsieur Mouillard, you really have been too kind!
What do I owe you for your trouble?"

"You must ask my master what his fees come to, Mademoiselle."

"Yes, but you? What can I do for you?"

The whole office, from the messenger to the clerk who came next to me,
had their eyes upon me. I rose to the occasion, and in my uncle's best
manner I replied:

"Be happy, Mademoiselle, and remember me."

We laughed over it for a week.

She has done better, she has remembered it after eight months. But she
has not given her address. That is a pity. I should have liked to see
them both again. These young married folk are like the birds; you hear
their song, but that does not tell you the whereabouts of their nest.

Now, u