"No one will see me go to the little shirtmaker's," he said to himself, "and perhaps she will be quite as well pleased to receive me after dark. That saves appearances." He stopped at Georgette's door and knocked softly. In a moment, a sweet voice said: "Who is there?" "Open, if you please, Mademoiselle Georgette; it is someone who wishes to speak to you." "I don't receive visits at night. Come back to-morrow morning." "I am your opposite neighbor, mademoiselle--Monsieur de Mardeille; I sent my servant to you this morning. You know what it is that brings me; so be kind enough to open the door, I beg." "I am very sorry, monsieur; but I never let anybody in at night. Come back to-morrow. It will be light then." "What, mademoiselle! you leave me outside your door--me, Monsieur de Mardeille! You are quite certain, I presume, that I am not a robber?" "Perhaps you might be a more dangerous character! Good-night, monsieur! Until to-morrow, by daylight!" "It's because she considers me too dangerous that she won't let me in now!" said Monsieur de Mardeille to himself, as he returned to his own lodgings. That idea, by flattering his self-esteem, consoled him a little for having put himself out to no purpose. "It's plain," he thought, "that she wants the whole house to know that I am paying court to her.--Well! since it must be, mademoiselle, you shall receive a visit from me at midday." And the next day, after passing more than an hour at his toilet, because he was determined to be irresistible, Monsieur de Mardeille decided to defy the prying glances of the neighbors. He went downstairs as if he were going out; but as he passed the concierge, who was standing at his door, he said: "By the way, that girl who lives on the entresol makes shirts, doesn't she?" "Yes, monsieur; she works for a linen draper; her sewing is perfect, so they say." "In that case, I am inclined to order some shirts of her. One ought always to employ one's neighbors, as far as possible." And our dandified friend turned on his heel, crossed the courtyard, and in an instant stood before Georgette's door, which was always unlocked during the day. Monsieur de Mardeille tapped softly twice. "Come in, the door is unlocked," replied the same voice that he had heard the night before. Monsieur de Mardeille entered with the ease of manner born of familiarity with society, and the nonchalance which a rich man always affects when he calls upon poor people--unless, that is to say, he is possessed of intelligence or tact; in which case, far from seeking to make his superiority felt, his endeavor will rather be to keep it out of sight. But men of tact and intelligence are rare, and Georgette's caller was deficient in both those qualities.