I returned home, informed my concierge that I expected some parcels I had just bought, and that the messenger was to bring them up to my room. I went up myself, and fretted and fumed like all young men awaiting their first assignation, like all young women whose mammas keep them in the house when they are burning to go out. An hour passed, and no one came. Another hour had nearly elapsed, and I was on the point of going back to the shop, when my doorbell rang. I reached the door with one bound and threw it open; there stood Monsieur Raymond, laden with an enormous pasteboard box. "What do you want, Monsieur Raymond?" "My respects to you, neighbor!" "But what brings you to my door, pray?" "I will explain. Allow me to come in and put down this box." And, without awaiting my reply, he entered my reception room and seated himself on a chair. I remained standing in front of him, hoping that that would make him cut his visit short. "Excuse me if I make myself at home; but my back is still painful. That wall was devilish high." "What do you want of me? I beg you to tell me, for I am in a great hurry." "Here goes: in the first place, I wanted to make my peace with you, because neighbors ought not to quarrel." "Bless my soul! I have no desire to quarrel." "I'm very glad of that; then that's all at an end. I was on the watch for an opportunity to come here to speak to you; the opportunity came, and I grasped it. Somebody rang at my door just now and asked for you." "What's that? just now? Who was it?" "A girl--very pretty, too; but not so pretty as the one the other night." "A girl! what did she want? pray go on!" "She brought this box for you, and said there was no message." "Well! where is she? what did you say?" "I took charge of the box, telling her that you had gone out, so that I might have the pleasure of delivering it myself and making my peace with you." "Great God! is it possible? Must you always meddle in other people's business, just to drive me mad? I'll stake my head it was she!" I opened the box, while Raymond stared at me in amazement; he did not know which way to turn, seeing the gleam of anger in my eyes when he expected thanks. I found all the flowers I had bought, and, in my rage, I kicked the box away. The bouquets and trimmings flew through the air, and a garland _à la jardinière_ lighted on Raymond's brow; he dared not remove it, because my outburst of wrath had stupefied him. After storming about and crumpling and mutilating my flowers, I threw myself into a chair and my eyes fell upon my neighbor. At that sight my anger vanished; it was impossible for me to keep a serious face when I saw Raymond crowned with paper flowers and glancing about him in terror. I roared with laughter; that reassured him, and he followed my example, but his laughter was of that forced variety which resembles a grimace, and not that inextinguishable merriment in which the gods indulge when Vulcan fills their glasses.