dy else abandons
her, and so he remains there, at a loss what to say, rooted to the spot,
like those people who dare not move during a storm for fear of attracting
the lightning. Sidonie moves excitedly about, going in and out of the
salon, changing the position of a chair, putting it back again, looking
at herself as she passes the mirror, and ringing for her maid to send her
to ask Pere Achille if no one has inquired for her. That Pere Achille is
such a spiteful creature! Perhaps when people have come, he has said that
she was out.

But no, the concierge has not seen any one.

Silence and consternation. Sidonie is standing at the window on the left,
Risler at the one on the right. From there they can see the little
garden, where the darkness is gathering, and the black smoke which the
chimney emits beneath the lowering clouds. Sigismond's window is the
first to show a light on the ground floor; the cashier trims his lamp
himself with painstaking care, and his tall shadow passes in front of the
flame and bends double behind the grating. Sidonie's wrath is diverted a
moment by these familiar details.

Suddenly a small coupe drives into the garden and stops in front of the
door. At last some one is coming. In that pretty whirl of silk and
flowers and jet and flounces and furs, as it runs quickly up the step,
Sidonie has recognized one of the most fashionable frequenters of the
Fromont salon, the wife of a wealthy dealer in bronzes. What an honor to
receive a call from such an one! Quick, quick! the family takes its
position, Monsieur in front of the hearth, Madame in an easychair,
carelessly turning the leaves of a magazine. Wasted pose! The fair caller
did not come to see Sidonie; she has stopped at the floor below.

Ah! if Madame Georges could hear what her neighbor says of her and her
friends!

At that moment the door opens and "Mademoiselle Planus" is announced. She
is the cashier's sister, a poor old maid, humble and modest, who has made
it her duty to make this call upon the wife of her brother's employer,
and who is amazed at the warm welcome she receives. She is surrounded and
made much of. "How kind of you to come! Draw up to the fire." They
overwhelm her with attentions and show great interest in her slightest
word. Honest Risler's smiles are as warm as his thanks. Sidonie herself
displays all her fascinations, overjoyed to exhibit herself in her glory
to one who was her equal in the old days, and to refle