ology was received with
good-humoured facility.

"Oh, don't mention it, monsieur; you only touched my hair with your
elbow; it is no worse, only a little dishevelled." She shook it back,
and passing her fingers through her curls, loosened them into more
numerous and flowing ringlets. Then she went on with vivacity:

"Rosalie, I was coming to tell you to go instantly and close the windows
of the salon; the wind is rising, and the muslin curtains will be
covered with dust."

Rosalie departed. "Now," thought I, "this will not do; Mdlle. Reuter
thinks her meanness in eaves-dropping is screened by her art in devising
a pretext, whereas the muslin curtains she speaks of are not more
transparent than this same pretext." An impulse came over me to thrust
the flimsy screen aside, and confront her craft boldly with a word or
two of plain truth. "The rough-shod foot treads most firmly on slippery
ground," thought I; so I began:

"Mademoiselle Henri has left your establishment--been dismissed, I
presume?"

"Ah, I wished to have a little conversation with you, monsieur," replied
the directress with the most natural and affable air in the world;
"but we cannot talk quietly here; will Monsieur step into the garden a
minute?" And she preceded me, stepping out through the glass-door I have
before mentioned.

"There," said she, when we had reached the centre of the middle alley,
and when the foliage of shrubs and trees, now in their summer pride,
closing behind end around us, shut out the view of the house, and thus
imparted a sense of seclusion even to this little plot of ground in the
very core of a capital.

"There, one feels quiet and free when there are only pear-trees and
rose-bushes about one; I dare say you, like me, monsieur, are sometimes
tired of being eternally in the midst of life; of having human faces
always round you, human eyes always upon you, human voices always in
your ear. I am sure I often wish intensely for liberty to spend a whole
month in the country at some little farm-house, bien gentille, bien
propre, tout entouree de champs et de bois; quelle vie charmante que la
vie champetre! N'est-ce pas, monsieur?"

"Cela depend, mademoiselle."

"Que le vent est bon et frais!" continued the directress; and she was
right there, for it was a south wind, soft and sweet. I carried my hat
in my hand, and this gentle breeze, passing through my hair, soothed my
temples like balm. Its refreshing effect, however, penet