The anecdotes that were told at our dinner the day before recurred to my mind; one of them especially had made a deep impression on me, and I was surprised that I had forgotten for so long a time that young girl of Sceaux--that unhappy Mignonne, toward whom Fouvenard had behaved so abominably. As if it were not enough to abandon her after having made her a mother, he must needs force her, against her will, into another man's arms! That was a perfect outrage! The law punishes men for less than Fouvenard had done--and all because she loved him! Unhappy girl! and to think that she was on the point of becoming a mother! I simply must see her, and try to alleviate her misery. Perhaps she was in utter destitution. He said Rue Ménilmontant, No. 80. I determined to go there; but I hoped that he had lied to us; that his Mignonne did not exist. It would be too execrable, if it were true. I rang for my servant, and he appeared. He was a simple-minded fellow, but trustworthy, I was confident; and as that is the rarest of qualities in all ranks of society, I kept Pomponne in my service, although he was very often guilty of the most stupid blunders, and was of such a prying, inquisitive turn that I often had to reprove him. Pomponne gave me all that I required for my toilet; but, as he walked about the room, I noticed that his manner was unusually idiotic, a symptom which always indicated that he had something to say and did not know how to go about it. So that it was necessary for me to give him a lead. "Have you been making a fool of yourself since yesterday, Pomponne?" "Me, monsieur! what makes you ask me that? You didn't tell me to, did you?" "Why, you don't usually wait for my instructions to do that. Are there any letters for me?" "No, monsieur." "Did anybody call while I was asleep?" "Call?" "Yes, call." "I don't think so, monsieur." "You don't think so? Aren't you sure?" "Oh, yes! I am sure." "What the devil's the matter with you this morning, that you seem so much more stupid than usual?" "Why, it seems to me that I'm just the same as usual." "Come, brush my hair, and be quick about it! It's late." You must know that Monsieur Pomponne was an excellent hair dresser; that and his trustworthiness, you see, made him rather a notable personage. He had studied the trade of hair dressing for some time; he gave it up, so he told me, because, as he had a fine lot of hair, his head was constantly used for beginners to practice on, and that got to be rather tiresome. "And the love affairs, Pomponne--how do they come on?" My servant blushed; he was not an accomplished rake, you see. "Oh, monsieur! I haven't any love affairs!" "Ah! so you choose to play the close-mouthed lover with me?--What about the maid-servant of the old gentleman opposite? you haven't made love to her, you rascal, have you?" "Oh, monsieur! I may have laughed a little with her; just in a joking way, that's all." "We all know what it means to laugh with maid-servants."