Madame de Fersen gave me a rapid glance, and then complained that her daughter was ailing and sad at finding herself thrown among strangers, and that no distraction had availed to draw her out of her melancholy,--neither games nor walks in the large gardens surrounding the mansion. "But, madame," said I, hoping to be understood, "would it not be better to send your daughter to the Tuileries Gardens? She would find there companions more of her own age, and their gaiety would doubtless divert her." A touching glance from Madame de Fersen showed me she had understood, for she replied, quickly: "_Mon Dieu!_ you are right, monsieur. I am very sorry I did not think of that sooner. From to-morrow, I shall always send my little girl to the Tuileries. I am sure she will be very happy there, and already I feel assured she will get well." I was happy to see from this mysterious interchange of thoughts that Madame de Fersen's heart read mine. Fresh visitors interrupted the conversation, the circle grew larger, and I rose to go and chat with some ladies of my acquaintance. "Ah, _mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Madame de ----, "M. de Pommerive here! That man thrusts himself everywhere, then?" In fact, there was Pommerive, with a less impudent air than usual, following in the steps of the _chargé d'affaires_ of some little German court, who was doubtless leading him up to Madame de Fersen. "It is a presentation," said Madame de ---- to me. "If there were justice," I replied, "it would be an exposition." "But how can Madame de Fersen receive affably so slanderous and false a man?" said Madame de ----. "To prove, doubtless, the weakness of that man's calumnies," replied I. Pommerive made a profound bow to Madame de Fersen, then followed the _chargé d'affaires_, and both went in search of M. de Fersen. A few minutes later, I found myself face to face with Pommerive. "Hello! Are you here?" he cried. This exclamation was so absurdly impertinent, that I answered: "If I were less polite, M. de Pommerive, I might express my astonishment at finding you here." "I am not at all astonished at it," said Pommerive with an impudent assurance, for which he was indebted to his age, and to a reputation for cynic cowardice, which I should have stated he was wont to boast of. "I did not expect to meet you; that is all. But listen." Then, taking my arm, he led me to the recess of a window, saying as we moved along: "Do you know the Prince do Fersen very well?" Pommerive was repugnant to me, but I was curious to know if people had heard of my having travelled with the princess, and as Pommerive was sure to pick up the slightest report, true or false, he might enlighten me on this subject. "I do not know M. de Fersen any better than you know him," I said. "Then you know him very well," he replied, conceitedly. "How is that?"