our affectionate cousin,

ALTON.

As he put down this letter, Graham heaved a short impatient sigh.

"The old Stamm Schloss," he muttered,--"a foot on the old soil once
more! and an entrance into the great arena with hands unfettered. Is it
possible!--is it?--is it?"

At this moment the door-bell of the apartment rang, and a servant whom
Graham had hired at Paris as a laquais de place announced "Ce Monsieur."

Graham hurried the letter into his portfolio, and said, "You mean the
person to whom I am always at home?"

"The same, Monsieur."

"Admit him, of course."

There entered a wonderfully thin man, middle-aged, clothed in black, his
face cleanly shaven, his hair cut very short, with one of those faces
which, to use a French expression, say "nothing." It was absolutely
without expression: it had not even, despite its thinness, one salient
feature. If you had found yourself anywhere seated next to that man,
your eye would have passed him over as too insignificant to notice;
if at a cafe, you would have gone on talking to your friend without
lowering your voice. What mattered it whether a bete like that overheard
or not? Had you been asked to guess his calling and station, you might
have said, minutely observing the freshness of his clothes and the
undeniable respectability of his tout ensemble, "He must be well off,
and with no care for customers on his mind,--a ci-devant chandler who
has retired on a legacy."

Graham rose at the entrance of his visitor, motioned him courteously
to a seat beside him, and waiting till the laquais had vanished, then
asked, "What news?"

"None, I fear, that will satisfy Monsieur. I have certainly hunted out,
since I had last the honour to see you, no less than four ladies of the
name of Duval, but only one of them took that name from her parents, and
was also christened Louise."

"Ah--Louise!"

"Yes, the daughter of a perfumer, aged twenty-eight. She, therefore, is
not the Louise you seek. Permit me to refer to your instructions." Here
M. Renard took out a note-book, turned over the leaves, and
resumed, "Wanted, Louise Duval, daughter of Auguste Duval, a French
drawing-master, who lived for many years at Tours, removed to Paris
in 1845, lived at No. 12, Rue de S---- at Paris for some years, but
afterwards moved to a different guartier of the town, and died 1848,
in Rue I----, No. 39. Shortly after his death, his daughter Louise
left that lodging, and could