or at the house of the rich banker, M. ODIER, He was
regarded as a friend of the family, and wore the honors of a friend; that
is to say, he had such opportunities of conversation, and for attention in
respect to the daughter of the house, as is rarely accorded to Paris
ladies in their teens. The General looks a man of fifty--he may be less;
but he has a noble carriage, a fine face, and a manner full of dignity and
gentleness. The pretty blonde (for Mlle. Odier is so described), was not
slow to appreciate the captivating qualities of the General. Moreover,
there belonged to her character a romantic tinge, which was lighted up by
the story of the General's bravery, and of the dauntless way in which he
bore himself through the murderous days of June. In short, she liked him
better than she thought.

The General, on the other hand, somewhat fixed in his bachelor habitude,
and counting himself only a fatherly friend, who could not hope, if he
dared, to quicken any livelier interest--wore imperturbably the dignity and
familiarity of his first manner.

One day--so the story runs--conversation turned upon a recent marriage, in
which the bridegroom was some thirty years the lady's senior. The General
in round, honest way, inveighed against the man as a deceiver of
innocence, and avowed strongly his belief that such inequality of age was
not only preposterous, but wicked.

Poor Mademoiselle Odier!--her fond heart feeding so long blindly on hope,
lighted by romance and love, could not bear the sudden shock. She grew
pale--paler still, and, to the surprise of the few friends who were
present--fainted.

Even yet the General lived in ignorance; and would perhaps have died in
ignorance, had not some kind friend made known to him the state of Mlle[.]
Odier's feelings. The General was too gallant a man to be conquered in
loving; and the issue was, in a week, an acknowledged troth of the
banker's daughter with the General Cavaignac.

Upon the evening preceding the change of the Republic, they were
together--father, daughter, and lover--at the first presentation of a new
play. The marriage was fixed for the week to come. But in view of the
unsettled state of affairs, the General advised a postponement. The next
morning he was a prisoner, on his way to Ham.

He wrote--the gossips tell us--a touching letter to Mademoiselle Odier,
giving up all claim upon her, as a prisoner, which he had so proudly
boasted while free, and assuring her