ome as usual, at ten minutes after
four, he found the young girl so much preoccupied that, although his
perspicacity was not great in such matters, he asked her three or four
times if anything was wrong; each time she answered by one of those
smiles which supplied Buvat with enough to do in looking at her; and it
followed that, in spite of these repeated questions, Bathilde kept her
secret.

After dinner M. Chaulieu's servant entered--he came to ask Buvat to
spend the evening with his master. The Abbe Chaulieu was one of Buvat's
best patrons, and often came to his house, for he had taken a great
liking for Bathilde. The poor abbe became blind, but not so entirely as
not to be able to recognize a pretty face; though it is true that he saw
it across a cloud. The abbe had told Bathilde, in his sexagenarian
gallantry, that his only consolation was that it is thus that one sees
the angels.

Bathilde thanked the good abbe from the bottom of her heart for thus
getting her an evening's solitude. She knew that when Buvat went to the
Abbe Chaulieu he ordinarily stayed some time; she hoped, then, that he
would stop late as usual. Poor Buvat went out, without imagining that
for the first time she desired his absence.

Buvat was a lounger, as every bourgeois of Paris ought to be. From one
end to the other of the Palais Royal, he stared at the shops, stopping
for the thousandth time before the things which generally drew his
attention. On leaving the colonnade, he heard singing, and saw a group
of men and women, who were listening to the songs; he joined them, and
listened too. At the moment of the collection he went away, not from a
bad heart, nor that he would have wished to refuse the admirable
musician the reward which was his due, but that by an old habit, of
which time had proved the advantage, he always came out without money,
so that by whatever he was tempted he was sure to overcome the
temptation. This evening he was much tempted to drop a sou into the
singer's bowl, but as he had not a sou in his pocket, he was obliged to
go away. He made his way then, as we have seen, toward the Barriere des
Sergents, passed up the Rue du Coq, crossed the Pont-Neuf, returned
along the quay so far as the Rue Mazarine; it was in the Rue Mazarine
that the Abbe Chaulieu lived.

The Abbe Chaulieu recognized Buvat, whose excellent qualities he had
appreciated during their two years' acquaintance, and with much pressing
on his part, and man