acquainted with Bathilde's name. The appearance of the young girl
had made the deeper impression on the chevalier from its being so
unexpected in such a place; and he was still under the influence of the
charm when Roquefinette entered, and gave a new direction to his
thoughts, which, however, soon returned to Bathilde. The next day,
Bathilde, who, profiting by the first ray of the spring sun, was early
at her window, noticed in her turn that the eyes of the chevalier were
ardently fixed upon her. She had noticed his face, young and handsome,
but to which the thought of the responsibility he had taken gave a
certain air of sadness; but sadness and youth go so badly together, that
this anomaly had struck her--this handsome young man had something to
annoy him--perhaps he was unhappy. What could it be? Thus, from the
second time she had seen him, Bathilde had very naturally meditated
about the chevalier. This had not prevented Bathilde from shutting her
window, but, from behind her window, she still saw the outline of the
chevalier's sad face. She felt that D'Harmental was sad, and when she
sat down to her harpsichord, was it not from a secret feeling that music
is the consoler of troubled hearts?

That evening it was D'Harmental who played, and Bathilde listened with
all her soul to the melodious voice which spoke of love in the dead of
night. Unluckily for the chevalier, who, seeing the shadow of the young
girl behind the drapery, began to think that he was making a favorable
impression on the other side of the street, he had been interrupted in
his concert by the lodger on the third floor; but the most important
thing was accomplished--there was already a point of sympathy between
the two young people, and they already spoke that language of the heart,
the most dangerous of all.

Moreover, Bathilde, who had dreamed all night about music, and a little
about the musician, felt that something strange and unknown to her was
going on, and, attracted as she was toward the window, she kept it
scrupulously closed; from this resulted the movement of impatience,
under the influence of which the chevalier had gone to breakfast with
Madame Denis.

There he had learned one important piece of news, which was, that
Bathilde was neither the daughter, the wife, nor the niece of Buvat;
thus he went upstairs joyfully, and, finding the window open, he had
put himself--in spite of the friendly advice of Boniface--in
communication with M