y neighbor."

He was mistaken. A month went by without bringing about any change.
As in the past, she went out early, came home late, and on Sundays
remained alone all day in her room. Once or twice a week, when the
weather was fine, the carriage came for her at about three o'clock,
and brought her home at nightfall. Maxence had exhausted all
conjectures, when one evening, it was the 31st of October, as he
was coming in to go to bed, he heard a loud sound of voices in the
office of the hotel. Led by an instinctive curiosity, he approached
on tiptoe, so as to see and hear every thing. The Fortins and Mlle.
Lucienne were having a great discussion.

"That's all nonsense," shrieked the worthy landlady; "and I mean
to be paid."

Mlle. Lucienne was quite calm.

"Well," she replied: "don't I pay you? Here are forty francs,
--thirty in advance for my room, and ten on the old account."

"I don't want your ten francs!"

"What do you want, then?"

"Ah,--the hundred and fifty francs which you owe me still."

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

"You forget our agreement," she uttered.

"Our agreement?"

"Yes. After the Commune, it was understood that I would give you
ten francs a month on the old account; as long as I give them to
you, you have nothing to ask."

Crimson with rage, Mme. Fortin had risen from her seat.

"Formerly," she interrupted, "I presumed I had to deal with a poor
working-girl, an honest girl."

Mlle. Lucienne took no notice of the insult.

"I have not the amount you ask," she said coldly.

"Well, then," vociferated the other, "you must go and ask it of
those who pay for your carriages and your dresses."

Still impassible, the girl, instead of answering, stretched her
hand towards her key; but M. Fortin stopped her arm.

"No, no!" he said with a giggle. "People who don't pay their
hotel-bill sleep out, my darling."

Maxence, that very morning, had received his month's pay, and he
felt, as it were, his two hundred francs trembling in his pockets.

Yielding to a sudden inspiration, he threw open the office-door,
and, throwing down one hundred and fifty francs upon the table,

"Here is your money, wretch!" he exclaimed. And he withdrew at
once.

XXVII

Maxence had not spoken to Mlle. Lucienne for nearly a month. He
tried to persuade himself that she despised him because he was poor.
He kept watching for her, for he could not help it; but as much as
possible he avoided her.