Six times I had walked around the pond. From time to time I halted in front of the lions, which I contemplated from every point of view; then, for variety's sake, I listened to the plash of the water as it fell into the passage through which it flows back to the canals. All this was most entertaining, no doubt, and still I began to weary of it. The sentinel watched me closely; doubtless he began to look upon me as a suspicious character. It grew dark, and I was on the point of going away, when I saw coming toward me a woman in a little cap. Was it she at last? I dared not flatter myself that it was; I had been mistaken so many times, for my eyesight is not very good; but she continued to approach me. Yes, it was really she. Caroline accosted me with a smiling face; she was not in her best clothes; but there was a certain daintiness in her costume: her cap was neatly tied, and her hair had been in curl papers all day, I would have sworn; a woman does not take so much pains for a man to whom she does not intend to listen. The girl seemed to me a sly minx enough! But although the champagne had made me even more reckless than usual, I was not inclined to offer my arm to a grisette, in a cap, within the walls of Paris. "I was beginning to lose all hope of seeing you," I said. "Why? it's only a quarter past eight, and I can't get away from my shop any earlier." "Let us go for a stroll in the fields." "In the fields? oh, no! it's too late. I can't be out later than nine; my aunt would scold me." "That's a very tiresome aunt of yours. Let us go in somewhere." "No, I don't want to. Oh! if I should be seen with you!" I did not choose to tell her that I was no more anxious than she to exhibit myself on the boulevard with her, for, after all, there were some social conventions which I did not care to defy. She wore an apron and a cap, and that fact annoyed me greatly. Certainly I think no more of a milliner than of a flowermaker, but Agathe was dressed as a lady, and I could afford to offer her my arm; a bonnet and shawl make a vast difference in a woman; and that is one of the petty foibles to which a young man has to submit when he goes into society, even though he despise them. If Nicette had met me at noon instead of at midnight, I certainly should not have escorted her to Madame Jérôme's on foot. "Suppose we walk a little on Rue des Marais," said Caroline; "I am not so much afraid of being seen there." "Very well." That suggestion was most welcome to me. We went down the stairs, took the Passage du Wauxhall, and in a moment we were on Rue des Marais, a street most favorable for sentimental promenades. Mademoiselle Caroline seemed to know the best places.