I had to give way. I went in, hoping to remain in the first room; but Madame Piquette pushed me toward a door at the farther end, making another reverence. I concluded to enter the second room, which with the first seemed to form the whole suite. And no Rosette! Could it be that I had made another fruitless journey? "I come, madame, from----" "Pray be good enough to sit down, monsieur." "It is not worth while, madame. I wanted to see Mademoiselle Rosette, your niece----" "You will mortify me by standing, monsieur." I had no desire to mortify Madame Piquette, but I was inclined to regret little Aunt Riflot at that moment. At last we were both seated. Madame Piquette put a small rug under my feet. Did she think that I had come to pass the day with her? She glanced in the mirror, and rearranged her cap strings on her breast. That pantomime alarmed me; I looked about in dismay; but for some unknown reason, I did not let my eyes rest on Madame Piquette, who had partly unfastened her neckerchief. Mon Dieu! what was the woman thinking of? At last, she finished her manoeuvring, and I hastened to say, without stopping for breath: "I have come from Madame Berlingot's finishing shop on Rue Pinon, to ask Mademoiselle Rosette to mend a cashmere shawl." Madame Piquette courtesied again; I glanced in the mirror and thought that she was preparing to remove her neckerchief. Great heaven! what was I about to see? But, no; I had taken fright without cause; she rearranged her pink ribbons about her neck, and replied: "It is with the deepest regret, monsieur, that I find myself compelled to inform you that Rosette is not here. I believe that she is at her Aunt Dumarteau's at this moment." "Will you kindly give me Madame Dumarteau's address?" "It's a long way, monsieur, a long way from here!" "I have a cab, madame." "In that case, monsieur, take the trouble to go to Rue Verte, Faubourg Saint-Honoré, No. 12." "Exceedingly obliged, madame!" "But if you would be pleased to rest a moment longer, monsieur, I should be charmed to----" I listened to no more; I rose, left the room, and went down the stairs by leaps and bounds; I fancied that I could still see Madame Piquette baring her neck before me. "Rue Verte, No. 12," I said to my cabman.--Oh! Rosette, what a dance you were leading me! But, no matter! As I had begun, I would persevere to the end. "Madame Dumarteau?" I said to the concierge. "Sixth floor, door at the left." Sixth floor! I would have bet on it! And this was only the fourth aunt! What fate was in store for me? I knocked at Madame Dumarteau's door, as she had no bell. A woman of some fifty years, with a morose face, half opened the door, and asked in a hoarse voice: "What do you want?" "Madame Dumarteau." "That's me! Well?" "I have come to see Mademoiselle Rosette, from----" "Mamzelle Rosette ain't here." "Where is she, then?" "At her Aunt Lumignon's, Rue du Petit-Muse, Quartier Saint-Antoine."