"Don't say that. On the contrary, it is due to you that my house has assumed an orderly, comfortable aspect that it never had before." "Will it be long before you return to Paris?" "I don't think so. But sometimes, when one has no business to attend to----" "Of course, and when one is enjoying one's self. Are you going to visit--friends?" "Yes, I am going to see several friends--to make a round of visits. By the way, Mignonne, I wanted to say---- That young man whom you have seen here several times--Ballangier--will probably come while I am away." "I will tell the concierge not to let anyone come up, as you won't be here." "That is all right, so far as most people are concerned; but I want Ballangier to be excepted from that prohibition. I take a very deep interest in that young man. He used to have none but evil acquaintances in Paris; he must not find a house closed to him where he can learn only profitable lessons. And then, too, my library is at his disposal; he may take whatever books he chooses. So you will please be kind enough to admit him. He's a fine fellow, and I am sure that he will do his utmost to deserve your esteem." "Very good, monsieur," Mignonne replied, in a cold and constrained tone; "your orders shall be followed." "But I am not giving you orders; I am simply expressing a wish, that's all!" "And if any letters should come for you, monsieur, where shall I send them?" "I don't expect any. At all events, my servant will call and get them from the concierge." "Oh! you will send your servant to Paris, but you won't come yourself?" She hastily lowered her eyes, but I saw that they were full of tears. I made haste to grasp her hand, which she did not withdraw, and pressed it affectionately. "I shall see you soon, Mignonne," I said. "Keep a sharp eye on my house!" And I hurried away, driving Monsieur Pomponne before me, for he seemed determined to return to the room where Mignonne was, probably to pick up a pin. XLVI FONTENAY-SOUS-BOIS We arrived at Fontenay about three in the afternoon. Frédérique's country house was a little beyond the village; it was not isolated, for there were several pretty villas in the neighborhood; but it was far enough from the centre of population for us not to be annoyed by the singing of drunken men, the noise of children, and the barking of dogs. An iron fence surrounded a beautiful lawn bordered by flowers in front of the house. At the left was a small building, entirely separate from the main house, and Frédérique said to me as we passed it: "That is where you are to sleep, my friend; there's a very nice little chamber over the billiard room, and you will be absolutely at home there, free to go in and out without disturbing anyone." "But I didn't come here to live alone! And you?"