ed Rodolph, much amused at the ingenious method of
reimbursement employed by Madame Pipelet. "But may I, without offence,
observe that one of the letters is addressed to you, and that you
possess in the writer a correspondent whose _billets-doux_ are
marvellously well perfumed?"

"Let us see what it is about," said the porteress, taking the epistle in
the scented envelope. "Yes, upon my word, it is scented up like a real
_billet-doux_! Now, I should very much like to know who would dare write
_me_ a love-letter! He must be a villain!"

"And suppose it had fallen into your husband's hands, Madame Pipelet?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake don't mention that, or I shall faint away in
your arms! But how stupid I am! Now I know all about it," replied the
fat porteress, shrugging her shoulders. "To be sure! to be sure! it
comes from the Commandant! Lord bless me, what a fright I have had! for
Alfred is as jealous as a Turk."

"Here is another letter addressed to M. Cesar Bradamanti."

"Ah! to be sure, the dentist on the third floor. I will put it in the
letter-boot."

Rodolph fancied he had not caught the right words, but, to his
astonishment, he saw Madame Pipelet gravely throw the letter alluded to
into an old top-boot hanging up against the wall. He looked at her with
surprise.

"Do you mean," said he at length, "to put the gentleman's letter in----"

"Oh, yes, that is all right," replied the porteress. "I have put it in
the letter-boot,--there, you see. So now nobody's letters can be
mislaid; and when the different lodgers return home, Alfred or myself
turns the boot upside down,--we sort them out, and everybody gets his
own."

So saying, the porteress proceeded to break the seal of the letter
addressed to her; which having done, she turned it round and round,
looked at it in every direction, then, after a short appearance of
embarrassment and uncertainty, she said to Rodolph:

"Alfred generally reads my letters for me, because I do not happen to be
able to read them myself; perhaps you would not mind just looking over
this for me?"

"With the utmost pleasure!" quickly replied Rodolph, curious to dive
into the mysteries of who Madame Pipelet's correspondent might be; and
forthwith he read what follows, written upon hot-pressed paper, stamped
in its right-hand corner with the helmet, the letters "C. R.," the
heraldic supporters, and the cross of honour.

"To-morrow (Friday), about eleven o'clock, let there be