He bore his fate with calmness; for he expected that she who had caused his imprisonment would be eager to share and to enliven it: but that was beyond the heroism of a mistress. She was not willing to prefer to fine apartments and liberty, love and a prison with him; but while he, agonized at her desertion,--for she bade him a cold and final farewell,--was borne away into confinement, she was led away smiling and in triumph by her now avowed protector. All these circumstances I did not know at first--I only knew the result; which was imparted to me by the trembling Juan, who had seen Pendarves led away, had seen her farewell, and had vainly tried to make himself observed by him, that he might know he had a friend at hand. "A friend!" cried I with a flushed cheek, but with a trembling frame: "he shall know that he has the best of friends, a wife, near him!" and instantly, taking no precaution to conceal my person in any way, for I thought not of myself, I hastened rapidly along, Juan with difficulty keeping pace with me, till I reached the Luxembourg. "Whom do you want?" said a churlish man on duty. "Seymour Pendarves." "You can't see him: he is _au secret_." "Oh! but I must! Do let me speak to the _Citoyen_ Benoit, and ask him to let me enter." "You are very earnest; and perhaps he will let you. "Who shall I say wants to be admitted to this Pendarves?" "His wife." "His wife! Well," added he respectfully, "wives should not be kept from their husbands when they seek them in their distress." He then went in search of Benoit, who appeared with his keys of office. "_Citoyen_," said he, "here is a wife wants to see her husband." "I fear she is an aristocrat, then," replied Benoit, smiling and approaching us. "Ha!" cried he, "is it you? What is become of your spectacles? And do you want to see your husband, poor thing? Who is he?" I told him. He shook his head, saying to himself--"Who could have supposed he had a wife, and such a one too!" "_Citoyenne_," said he, "you cannot see your husband to-night, nor shall he know you are here; but to-morrow, at nine in the morning, I will admit you. Yes, and for your sake I will show him all the indulgence I can. So it was for this, was it, you came to Paris? I thought there was a mystery. Good girl! good girl!" So saying, he walked hastily away, and we returned to our home, at once disappointed and cheered. Oh! how I longed for the light of morning! Oh! how I longed to exhibit the superiority of the wife over the mistress! With what pleasure I anticipated the joy, mixed with shame and sorrow, no doubt, but still triumphant over every other feeling with which Pendarves would behold and receive me! How he would value this proof of tenderness and duty! while I should fondly assure him that all was forgotten and all forgiven!--So did I paint the scene to which I was hastening. Such were the hopes which flushed my cheek and irradiated my countenance.