t followed, almost inaudible though it was, my
ear distinguished a tone that set my heart beating.

"Well, I can't tell, of course," said Madame Bouisse, in answer,
evidently, to the remark just made; "but if mam'selle will only take the
trouble to look in the glass, and then look at the picture, she will see
how like it is. For my part, I believe it to be that, and nothing else.
Do you suppose I don't know the symptoms? _Dame!_ I have eyes, as well
as my neighbors; and you may take my word for it, mam'selle, that poor
young gentleman is just as much in love as ever a man was in
this world!"

"No more of this, if you please, Madame Bouisse," said Hortense, so
distinctly that I could no longer be in doubt as to the speaker.

I stayed to hear no more; but retreating softly down the first flight of
stairs, came noisily up again, and went straight into my
rooms, saying:--

"Madame Bouisse, are you here?"

"Not only Madame Bouisse, but an intruder who implores forgiveness,"
said Hortense, with a frank smile, but a heightened color.

I bowed profoundly. No need to tell her she was welcome--my face spoke
for me.

"It was Madame Bouisse who lured me in," continued she, "to look at that
painting."

"_Mais, oui!_ I told mam'selle you had her portrait in your
sitting-room," laughed the fat _concierge,_ leaning on her broom. "I'm
sure it's quite like enough to be hers, bless her sweet face!"

I felt myself turn scarlet. To hide my confusion I took the picture
down, and carried it to the window.

"You will see it better by this light," I said, pretending to dust it
with my handkerchief. "It is worth a close examination."

Hortense knelt down, and studied it for some moments in silence.

"It must be a copy," she said, presently, more to herself than me--"it
must be a copy."

"It _is_ a copy," I replied. "The original is at the Chateau de Sainte
Aulaire, near Montlhery."

"May I ask how you came by it?"

"A friend of mine, who is an artist, copied it."

"Then it was done especially for you?"

"Just so."

"And, no doubt, you value it?"

"More than anything I possess!"

Then, fearing I had said too much, I added:--

"If I had not admired the original very much, I should not have wished
for a copy."

She shifted the position of the picture in such a manner that, standing
where I did, I could no longer see her face.

"Then you have seen the original," she said, in a low tone.

"Undoubtedly--and you?"

"Y