“The filial love of the young girl, which spoke even more eloquently in her eyes than in her words, touched me deeply. I questioned her about her mother, her country, and her name. She told me with simplicity that her name was Gisquette, and that she came from the Faubourg St. Antoine, in the great city of Paris, where I should certainly not have gone in search of this little pure unspotted flower. She added that a vow taken by her mother had brought them to Aix-la-Chapelle, with her brother James, in order to present an offering to the Virgin, in acknowledgment of her old mother’s wonderful cure. “‘How dost thou expect to reach home?’ I then asked her; ‘how wilt thou make the long journey, thou who art only a poor girl without means, for in that denier which thou hast shown me consists thy whole fortune?’ ‘Sir,’ replied she, with the careless gaiety of her nation, ‘I shall go back as I came. Brother James is very clever; he can relate stories on the road, he will sing tales of the Trouvères, and I shall accompany him on my lute. In this manner we enter the convents, and the houses of hospitality, of which, thank God and his saints, there is no want. Brother James,’ said she, with a sister’s pride, ‘has already sung here in Aix-la-Chapelle before great lords and princes, at home he is well known in all the neighbourhood. Once when a grand mystery was performed in the large Hall he acted the part of Mercury, and had on his shoulders two large wings of gauze, which I made for him myself. I assure you he looked very handsome, and recited his fine verses beautifully.’ “Need I tell you, O my dear companions, how immediately my heart felt attracted towards this young girl? I led her back to our booth, and giving her the mirror which a moment before she had so coveted.--‘Take it, my child,’ I said, ‘and keep it in remembrance of this hour, as well as of the friend thou hast gained by thy filial piety.’ For some time she refused to accept it, and as André, who kept the stall that day, began reproaching me for giving away our goods, instead of selling them, she returned me the mirror, saying, ‘Thank you, my kind sir! it shall never be said that you were brought into trouble by the vanity of a poor girl.’ “If the avaricious speech and sentiment of Heilmann had sent the colour to my cheeks, this sad refusal on the part of Gisquette put the climax to my irritation. Unloosing my purse angrily from my waistband, I threw down on the bench the value of the mirror, which I laid hold of with one hand, while with the other I forced my way through the crowd with the young girl, and drew her to some distance from the place.