Water Street.

"Here we are, madam," said M. de Brevan.

And, lightly jumping down, he rang the bell at the door, which opened
immediately. The room of the concierge was still light. M. de Brevan
walked straight up to it, and opened the door like a man who is at home
in a house.

"It is I," he said.

A man and a woman, the concierge and his wife, who had been dozing, her
nose in a paper, started up suddenly.

"Monsieur Maxime!" they said with one voice.

"I bring," said M. de Brevan, "my young kinswoman, of whom I told you,
Miss Henrietta."

If Henrietta had had the slightest knowledge of Parisian customs, she
would have guessed from the bows of the concierge, and the courtesies of
his wife, how liberally they had been rewarded in advance.

"The young lady's room is quite ready," said the man.

"My husband has arranged every thing himself," broke in his wife; "it
was no trifle, after the papering had been done. And I--I made a fine
fire there as early as five o'clock, to take out the dampness."

"Let us go up then," said Brevan.

The concierge and his wife, however, were economical people; and the gas
on the stairs had long since been put out.

"Give me a candlestick, Chevassat," said the woman to her husband.

And with her lighted candle she went ahead, lighting M. de Brevan and
Henrietta, and stopping at every landing to praise the neatness of the
house. At last, in the fifth story, at the entrance to a dark passage,
she opened a door, and said,--

"Here we are! The young lady will see how nice it is."

It might possibly have been nice in her eyes; but Henrietta, accustomed
to the splendor of her father's palace, could not conceal a gesture of
disgust. This more than modest chamber looked to her like a garret such
as she would not have permitted the least of her maids to occupy at
home.

But never mind! She went in bravely, putting her travelling-bag on
a bureau, and taking off her shawl, as if to take possession of the
lodging. But her first impression had not escaped M. de Brevan. He drew
her into the passage while the woman was stirring the fire, and said in
a low voice,--

"It is a terrible room; but prudence induced me to choose it."

"I like it as it is, sir."

"You will want a great many things, no doubt; but we will see to that
to-morrow. To-night I must leave you: you know it is all important that
I should be seen again at your father's house."

"You are quite right; sir, go, make h