romantic feelings of that kind are sure to end in
smoke. As a rule they've no foundation but our own wishes.--If you take
my advice, Maurice, you will be content to admire Louise at a distance.
Think her as pretty as you like, and imagine her to be all that's sweet
and charming: but never mind about knowing her."

"But why on earth not?"

"Why, nothing will come of it."

"That depends on what you mean by nothing."

"You don't understand. I must be plainer.--Do sit down, and don't
fidget so.--How long have you been here now? Nearly two months. Well,
that's long enough to know something of what's going on. You must have
both seen and heard that Louise has no eyes for anyone but a certain
person, to put it bluntly, that she is wrapped up in Schilsky. This has
been going on for over a year now, and she seems to grow more
infatuated every day. When she first came to Leipzig, we were friends;
she lived in this neighbourhood, and I was able to be of service to
her. Now, weeks go by and I don't see her; she has broken with every
one--for Louise is not a girl to do things by halves.--Introduce you?
Of course I can. But suppose it done, with all pomp and ceremony, what
will you get from it? I know Louise. A word or two, if her ladyship is
in the mood; if not, you will be so much thin air for her. And after
that, a nod if she meets you in the street--and that's all."

"It's enough."

"You're easily satisfied.--But tell me, honestly now, Maurice, what
possible good can that do you?"

He moved aimlessly about the room. "Good? Must one always look for good
in everything?--I can see quite well that from your point of view the
whole thing must seem absurd. I expect nothing whatever from it, but
I'm going to know her, and that's all about it."

Still in the same position, with folded arms, Madeleine observed him
with unblinking eyes.

"And you won't bear me a grudge, if things go badly?--I mean if you are
disappointed, or dissatisfied?"

He made a gesture of impatience.

"Yes, but I know Louise, and you don't."

He had picked up from the writing-table the photograph of a curate, and
he stared at it as if he had no thought but to let the mild features
stamp themselves on his mind. Madeleine's eyes continued to bore him
through. At last, out of a silence, she said slowly: "Of course I can
introduce you--it's done with a wave of the hand. But, as your friend,
I think it only right to warn you what you must expect. For I can