herself,
and by this time there arrived a message from Madame, who required
her presence down-stairs. Monsieur was somewhat alarmed, and rose
precipitately, but Mademoiselle was too full of despair to admit of
fear.

"It's only the dress-maker," she said. "You can stay where you are,
father, and she won't guess we've been together, and it'll be better for
us both."

And accordingly she obeyed the summons alone.

Great were the preparations made by Madame for the entertainment My
wife, to whom she displayed the costumes and jewels she had purchased,
was aroused to an admiration truly feminine.

She had the discretion to trust to the taste of the _artistes_, and had
restrained them in nothing. Consequently, all that was to be desired in
the appearance of Mademoiselle Esmeralda upon the eventful evening was
happiness. With her mother's permission, she came to our room to display
herself, Monsieur following her with an air of awe and admiration
commingled. Her costume was rich and exquisite, and her beauty beyond
criticism; but as she stood in the centre of our little _salon_ to be
looked at, she presented an appearance to move one's heart. The pretty
young face which had by this time lost its slight traces of the sun had
also lost some of its bloom; the slight figure was not so round nor so
erect as it had been, and moved with less of spirit and girlishness.

It appeared that Monsieur observed this also, for he stood apart
regarding her with evident depression, and occasionally used his
handkerchief with a violence that was evidently meant to conceal some
secret emotion.

"You're not so peart as you was, Esmeraldy," he remarked, tremulously;
"not as peart by a light smart, and what with that, and what with your
fixin's, Wash--I mean the home-folks,"--hastily--"they'd hardly know
ye."

He followed her down-stairs mournfully when she took her departure,
and Clelie and myself being left alone interested ourselves in various
speculations concerning them, as was our habit.

"This Monsieur Wash," remarked Clelie, "is clearly the lover. Poor
child! how passionately she regrets him,--and thousands of miles lie
between them--thousands of miles!"

It was not long after this that, on my way downstairs to make a trifling
purchase, I met with something approaching an adventure. It so chanced
that, as I descended the staircase of the second floor, the door of the
first floor apartment was thrown open, and from it issued Made