f-minute of formalities she hurried away. But as she
turned she gave him one quick glance that combined politeness,
shyness, fear, curiosity, and pity,--a glance that went straight to
his heart and increased its tumult.

A pair of sharp, steel-blue eyes regarded him furtively, and, while
half veiled by the long lashes, lost not a breath or gesture of this
meeting and parting,--saw Jean standing, hat in hand, partly bowed,
speechless, with his soul in his handsome face.

The one black eye of the maimed grisette saw only Mlle. Fouchette. If
that scrutiny could not fathom Mlle. Fouchette's mind, it was perhaps
because the mind of Mlle. Fouchette was not sufficiently clear.

"Allons!" said the latter young woman, in a tone that scarcely broke
his revery.

There is often more expression in a simple touch than in a multitude
of words. The unhappy grisette felt this from the sympathetic hand of
the young man slipped into hers at parting. At a little distance she
turned to see Jean and Mlle. Fouchette enter a cab and drive towards
the right bank.

"Ca!" she murmured, "but if that petite moucharde had a heart it would
be his!"

During the next half-hour Mlle. Fouchette unconsciously gained greatly
in Jean's estimation by saying nothing. They went to the Credit
Lyonnais, in Boulevard des Italiens, to Rue St. Honore, to the "agent
de location,"--getting money, taking a list of furniture, seeing about
the sale of his lease. In all of this business Mlle. Fouchette showed
such a clear head and quick calculation that from first being amused,
Jean at last leaned upon her implicitly.

The next day was spent in arranging his new quarters, Mlle. Fouchette
issuing general direction, to the constant discomfiture of the worthy
Benoit, thus deprived of unknown perquisites.

When this work of installation had been completed, Jean found himself
with comfortable quarters in the Rue St. Jacques at a saving of
nearly two thousand four hundred francs.

"There!" exclaimed Mlle. Fouchette.

"At last!" said Jean.

"Now," Mlle. Fouchette began, with enthusiasm, "I'm going to get
dinner!"

"Oh, not to-day! Allons donc! We must celebrate by dinner at the
restaurant."

"But it's a sinful waste of money, when one has such a sweet
range,--and you must economize, monsieur."

"All right," he replied,--"to-morrow."

It is a popular plan of economy, that which begins to-morrow.

"Yes, to-morrow; to-morrow you shall have your way. To-day I