Caroline turned to the piano and played Eugénie’s favorite piece. I abandoned myself to the charm of listening and to the illusion of my memories. My heart was swollen with tears, and yet I enjoyed it. Caroline turned often to look at me, but I did not see her. Suddenly a great uproar roused us from that situation, which had much charm for us both. The doorbell rang violently. Soon we heard several voices and the barking of a dog. “What a nuisance!” cried Caroline; “one cannot be left in peace here a moment; my uncle receives all his neighbors! I absolutely must lose my temper with him.” The noise kept increasing, and it seemed to me that I heard familiar voices. At last they came toward the salon, and lo! Giraud entered, with his wife, his daughter, one of his sons, and a tall young man dressed as if for a ball, who dared not move for fear of disarranging the knot of his cravat or rumpling his shirt collar. Caroline watched the entrance of all those people with wide-open eyes. Giraud came forward with an offhand air and introduced his wife, saying: “Mademoiselle, I have the honor to offer my respects, and to introduce my wife. Wife, this is mademoiselle, the niece of Monsieur Roquencourt, from whom I received such a cordial welcome last Sunday, and who urged me to call again when I was driving in this direction. These are my eldest son and my daughter. Bow to the lady, my children. Monsieur is one of our intimate friends; he was in our party and I took the liberty of introducing him.--Good-day, my dear Blémont; delighted to find you here again!” Caroline bestowed a decidedly cool salutation upon the party; she contented herself with pointing to chairs. The Giraud family seated themselves; the young dandy took his seat on the edge of a couch, and Giraud at once continued: “But where is our dear uncle, the amiable Monsieur Roquencourt? Bless my soul! how I did enjoy hearing him recite the part of Mascarille in _L’Etourdi_! and Monsieur de Crac! Ah! how good he was! I made my wife laugh heartily by telling her about it.--Didn’t I, my love?” “Yes, my dear.--But, mon Dieu! what does Azor mean by searching under all the chairs like that? Come here, Azor.--Monsieur Mouillé, just give him a kick, if you please, to make him keep still.” Monsieur Mouillé--that was the dandified young man’s name--rose and tried to catch the dog. Being unable to do it, he gave him a kick, which made Azor fly from the salon yelping just as Monsieur Roquencourt entered. Everybody rose once more. Once more Monsieur Giraud introduced his family and his young man, adding: “Monsieur Mouillé does not come to the country often; he has so much business to attend to since he inherited from his uncle the merchant, who left him a hundred and fifty thousand francs and a buggy.--Was it a buggy or a tilbury that your uncle had?” “It was a jolting affair,” replied Monsieur Mouillé, without turning his neck. Giraud made a wry face and continued;