At last everything was ready; I had the keys of the apartment. There was no concierge in the house; that meant one less spy. But I must provide for everything; Caroline would come that evening to take up her abode in that quarter, which was unfamiliar to her; I must, at the very least, be prepared to offer her some supper; surely there was a restaurant in the neighborhood, and I would go at once to order a dainty repast. But had I thought of everything that required to be done before my mistress should take possession of her new abode? would she have everything she needed? I decided to place fifteen louis in the commode, with which she could provide for her immediate wants; for in the first days of her changed position she would hardly feel like working, and that would be very excusable, a girl's head is so easily turned! But we become accustomed to everything, and it seemed to me that if my pretty flowermaker chose to be respectable and orderly, and to behave herself, she might be very happy. I went to the restaurant and ordered a dainty supper for nine o'clock. Then I set about trying to kill time until evening; it was dinner time, but I was not hungry; no matter! I determined to dine, as that would give me some occupation. When I had dined, it was six o'clock; I had still two hours and a half before me, which would never end, I thought. I decided to take a walk; it occurred to me that I should not be sorry to meet Raymond, to divert my thoughts. So I went to Rue Vivienne, where the milliner's shop was in which Agathe was engaged; I was sure that Raymond would be prowling about the neighborhood. As I drew near the shop, I saw a number of people collected about a paper pasted on the wall within a few yards of the door. I was not in the habit of stopping to read about lost dogs or other chattels; but I saw that everybody was laughing, and concluded that it was not one of those ordinary placards. I walked toward the crowd and listened: "It's a good joke," said one. "It's a most excellent trick," said another; "I'm sure it's a good likeness; I recognize that profile." I pushed my way to the front, and--what did I see? Raymond's silhouette pasted on a great white sheet of paper, with these words written above in huge letters: "Notice to ladies, young and old. The original of this portrait is looking for a lady of from fifteen to thirty-six years who is willing to accept a dinner in a private dining room."