Julien had lived five years on Quatre-Femmes Square when, one July evening, an event upset his existence. The night was very warm. He was playing his flute without a light, but absent-mindedly, when, all of a sudden, opposite him, a window in the Marsanne mansion opened, showing a brilliant light in the somber facade. A young girl leaned upon the window-railing and she raised her head as if listening. Julien, trembling, had stopped playing. He could not distinguish the face of the young girl, he could only see the waving mass of her loosened hair. And a light voice reached him in the midst of the silence. "Didst thou not hear, Françoise? It sounded like music." "A nightingale, miss," answered a coarse voice from the room. "Close the blinds; look out for night-insects." When the facade had grown dark again, Julien could not leave his armchair. An hour later, he began to play again very softly. He smiled at the thought that the young girl probably imagined that there was a nightingale in the chestnut trees. II The next day, at the post-office, the great news was that Mademoiselle Therese de Marsanne had left the convent. Julien did not relate that he had seen her, with bare throat, and loosened hair. He entertained an indefinable sentiment toward that young lady who was to derange his habits. How could he henceforth play his flute? He played too badly to be heard by a young lady who evidently knew music. Julien returned home furtively that evening. He did not light a candle. The window opposite did not open, but, towards ten o'clock a pale light shone through the blades of the blinds. Then, the light was extinguished, and he was left contemplating the dark window. Every evening, in spite of himself, he began that spying. Nothing seemed changed in the house; the old mansion slept on as before. It required trained eyes and ears to detect the new life. Sometimes, a light ran behind the windows, a corner of a curtain was lifted, there was a glimpse of an immense room. At other times, a light step crossed the garden, the sound of a piano was faintly heard accompanying a voice. Julien explained his curiosity by pretending to be annoyed at the noises. How he regretted the time when the empty house sent back a soft echo of his flute!