"You are probably intending to go to Madame Sordeville's. Do not go there, do not go to that house again; this is the best advice I can give you. If you are really desirous to see Armantine, if your love for her has revived, thanks to the coquetries she lavished upon you yesterday, see her elsewhere than at her own house. I write you these lines because I remember our pleasant intimacy, which was of short duration, but which has left in my heart marks of its passage. So, trust me and take my advice. I should consider that I insulted you if I should ask you not to mention this warning. "FRÉDÉRIQUE." The contents of that letter seemed to me most extraordinary. I read it over several times, but could not understand it. Frédérique urged me not to go to Madame Sordeville's, but she gave me no reason, no hint, as to the purpose of that warning. It could be nothing more than a freak, the result of momentary ill humor with her friend. I was much perplexed by the letter, but I had no idea of following the advice contained therein. Indeed, for some time past, Madame Dauberny had treated me so strangely, she had been so cold to me, that I found it hard to believe in that recrudescence of friendship of which she spoke in her letter. If she meant the warning seriously, why did she not come and speak to me herself? She had told me several times that she had no more hesitation in calling on a young man than on a friend of her own sex. And so, without giving another thought to Frédérique's advice, I went at once to Madame Sordeville's. I found Armantine in her dainty boudoir, surrounded by flowers and embroidery. I do not know whether she expected me, but it seemed to me that her dress and her coiffure were even more coquettish than usual. Probably I was mistaken, and it was because I was not accustomed to gaze upon her charms that they produced that effect on me. I was welcomed with extreme cordiality. Armantine had her merry, sarcastic, and melancholy moods. On the day in question, she seemed almost sentimental; she laughed less frequently than usual, but I considered her the more fascinating so. She gave me her hand and bade me sit beside her, saying: "This is delightful! It hasn't taken you long to keep your promise this time." "It is my greatest happiness to be with you, madame; and my reason for depriving myself of that happiness so long is that----" "Well, monsieur? it is that----?" "That---- Look you, madame, I propose to be quite frank; have I your permission?" "Why, of course." "I propose to tell you of all the torments I have suffered. In the first place, I love you--but you are well aware of that; I have told you so before." "Yes, you have told me so; but that is no reason why it should be true. All men say as much to a woman who is at all attractive, and of whom they flatter themselves that they can make the conquest."