I seemed to hear that note now, and turning, found the owner of the voice within touch of me. She was tall and slim, with a certain fresh immaturity, which was like the scent of the first spring flowers in my own Norfolk woods at home. Flower-like, too, was her face--somewhat long and narrow, with a fair flush on it of youth, health and happiness. The merriest eyes in the world were looking laughingly into the face of an old gentleman at her side, smiling, happy eyes of innocent maidenhood. And yet here again I saw the woman in the girl. I saw a gracious lady, knowing life, and being yet pure, having learned of good and evil only to remember the good. For the knowledge of evil is like vaccine--it causes disturbance only when hidden impurity awaits it. "Come," said John Turner, taking my arm, "no one else wants to forget Waterloo." I went with him a little. Then I paused. "Who is the young lady coming down the steps behind us?" John Turner, looking over his shoulder, gave a grunt. "Old De Clericy and his daughter," he answered. "One of the families that are too old to keep pace with the times." [Illustration: "WHO IS THE YOUNG LADY COMING DOWN THE STEPS BEHIND US?"] We walked on a little. "There is a chance for you--wants a secretary," muttered my companion. "Does he?" I exclaimed, stopping. "Then introduce me." "Not I." "Why?" "Can't introduce a man who came across in a piano-case," he answered, with a laugh, which made me remember that this was a man of station and some standing in Paris, while I was but a vagabond and ne'er-do-well. "Then I'll introduce myself," I said, hastily. John Turner shrugged his broad shoulders and walked on. As for me, I stopped and on the impulse of the moment turned. Monsieur and Mademoiselle de Clericy were coming slowly towards me, and more than one looked at the fair young girl with a franker admiration than I cared about, while she was happily unconscious of it. It would seem that she must lately have left the convent, for the guileless pink and white of that pure life lingered on her face, while her eyes danced with an excitement out of all proportion to the moment. What should she know of Napoleon I, and how rejoice for France when she knew but little of the dark days through which the great general had brought that land? I edged my way towards them through the crowd without pausing to reflect what I was about to do. I had run away from my creditors, it is true, but was not called upon to work for my living. The Howards had not done much of that, so far as I knew; though many of my ancestors, if one may credit the old portraits at home, had fought for rights, and even wrongs, with considerable spirit and success.