"When I was coming back, monsieur, I met the concierge.--'Has Mamzelle Georgette gone out already?' I said. 'Do you know whether she'll be back soon?'--At that he began to laugh, and he said: 'Pardi! if you wait for her, you'll waste your time; she went away last night.'" "Went away last night? Nonsense! you don't know what you're saying; you misunderstood! Went away! where did she go?" "That's what I asked, monsieur. It seems that the girl has moved. She paid the concierge last night; she sent for an upholsterer, and sold him all her furniture; then she took a cab, and off she went without saying where she was going." Monsieur de Mardeille turned green, red, and ash-colored in turn. "A glass of water, Frontin! a glass of water!" he stammered, dropping on a chair. "I think I am going to faint." The servant hastily gave his master a glass of water, saying: "Was monsieur so very much in love with our little neighbor?" At that, Monsieur de Mardeille threw the water in Frontin's face. "Hold your tongue, you brute! I am robbed, that's what I am! Fetch the concierge; I must speak to him." "He has something for you from Mamzelle Georgette, monsieur; for he said to me: 'Is your master awake? I've got something to give him in person from this young woman, who gave me the parcel before she went away.'" "And you didn't tell me that, you idiot! Go, run, and tell him to come up instantly!" "Hark! monsieur, someone's ringing; that must be him. I'll go and let him in." The old beau was still wavering between hope and fear. "This package--why, she must have returned me my banknotes," he thought. "She has probably reflected, and concluded to remain virtuous. If that's how it is, I must make the best of it." The concierge entered his tenant's apartment, bringing a rather large parcel, carefully wrapped in paper; he carried it on his outstretched arms, as if he were delivering the keys of a city on a salver, and handed it to Monsieur de Mardeille, who looked at it, scrutinized it, and at once said to himself: "I didn't give her enough banknotes to make so large a parcel as this!" "This is what the young woman on the entresol told me to give you, monsieur, when she went away." "Went away! But why did you let the girl go away? Did you give her notice to quit?" "No, monsieur; but she paid in full and one quarter ahead, so I couldn't prevent her from going, especially as she seemed in a great hurry." "And you didn't ask her where she was going?" "I beg your pardon; she told me that she was going back to her province, but that she should come to Paris again in a week." "And she didn't leave you her address?" "No, monsieur; but she left me this little note for you." "Give it to me! you should have begun with that! Leave me now.--You go, too, Frontin." The concierge and the valet left the room together, agreeing that it was too bad that he had not opened the parcel in their presence.