she said, "that I am always at home till
midday, and after five."

Then, turning to her other visitor, she said:--

"_Mon cousin_, allow me to present my friend. Monsieur
Arbuthnot--Monsieur le Vicomte Adrien de Caylus."

I had suspected as much already. Who but he would have dared to assume
these airs of insolence? Who but her suitor and my friend's rival? I had
disliked him at first sight, and now I detested him. Whether it was that
my aversion showed itself in my face, or that Madame de Courcelles's
cordial welcome of myself annoyed him, I know not; but his bow was even
cooler than my own.

"I have been waiting to see you, Helene," said he, looking at his watch,
"for nearly three-quarters of an hour."

"I sent you word, _mon cousin_, that I was finishing a letter for the
foreign post," said Madame de Courcelles, coldly, "and that I could not
come sooner."

Monsieur de Caylus bit his lip and cast an impatient glance in my
direction.

"Can you spare me a few moments alone, Helene?" he said.

"Alone, _mon cousin_?"

"Yes, upon a matter of business."

Madame de Courcelles sighed.

"If Monsieur Arbuthnot will be so indulgent as to excuse me for five
minutes," she replied. "This way, _mon cousin_."

So saying, she lifted a dark green curtain, beneath which they passed to
a farther room out of sight and hearing.

They remained a long time away. So long, that I grew weary of waiting,
and, having turned over all the illustrated books upon the table, and
examined every painting on the walls, turned to the window, as the
idler's last resource, and watched the passers-by.

What endless entertainment in the life-tide of a Paris street, even
though but a branch from one of the greater arteries! What color--what
character--what animation--what variety! Every third or fourth man is a
blue-bloused artisan; every tenth, a soldier in a showy uniform. Then
comes the grisette in her white cap; and the lemonade-vender with his
fantastic pagoda, slung like a peep-show across his shoulders; and the
peasant woman from Normandy, with her high-crowned head-dress; and the
abbe, all in black, with his shovel-hat pulled low over his eyes; and
the mountebank selling pencils and lucifer-matches to the music of a
hurdy-gurdy; and the gendarme, who is the terror of street urchins; and
the gamin, who is the torment of the gendarme; and the water-carrier,
with his cart and his cracked bugle; and the elegant ladies and
gentlemen, who