"Brigitta," said I to her, "after the little affection you have ever manifested for me, it would be impossible as well as unwise to take you into my service; but let me know in what way I can best promote the interest of yourself and husband, and I pledge myself to accomplish it for you." "I thank you, madam," answered she, resuming her accustomed haughtiness, "I came to solicit a situation near the person of the comtesse du Barry. Since that is refused me, I have nothing more to request." "Be it as you please," replied I. Brigitta made a low courtesy, and quitted the room. Henriette, who had been the witness of this scene, expressed her apprehensions that I should be displeased with her for introducing an unwelcome visitor to me. "No," cried I, "'tis not with you I am vexed., but myself." "And why so, dear madam?" "Because I reproach myself with having in my own prosperity forgotten one of my earliest and dearest friends, who loved me with the tenderest affection. Possibly she may now be in trouble or difficulties, from which I might have a thousand ways of relieving her; but it is never too late to do good. To-morrow, early, you shall set out for Paris; when there, go to the rue Saint Martin, inquire for the sign of la Bonne Foi; it is kept by a pastrycook, named M. Mathon, of whom I wish you to learn every particular relative to his daughter Geneviève." My wishes were laws to Henriette, who instantly retired to prepare for her journey. I had not ventured to desire her to glean any information concerning the brother of Geneviève, and yet at the recollection of the handsome Nicolas my heart beat impetuously. With what impatience did I await the return of Henriette! at length she came. "Well!" said I. "I have found out M. Mathon," answered Henriette. "Which, the father?" "Yes, madam." "And what is his present occupation?" "As usual, madam, superintending his kitchen and shop." "Is he alone in his business?" "Oh, no! madam; he is assisted by his son, a fine dark handsome young man." "His son then lives with him?" "Yes, madam, and he is married." "Married!--but it is not of this young man I wish to speak, but of his sister, of Geneviève; tell me of her." "I only learned, madam, that she had married a tailor, named Guérard--who, after having been very unsuccessful in business, died suddenly, leaving her wholly destitute with two young children." I immediately wrote the following note to my early friend:-- "The comtesse du Barry having heard of the misfortunes of madame Guérard, and knowing how much she is deserving of a better fate, is desirous of being useful to her. She therefore requests madame Guérard will call next Monday, at two o'clock, on her at her hotel, rue de la Pussienne."