"What imprudence!" murmured the lady; then, after a moment's pause, she added impatiently, in a low voice, as if she feared to be overheard, "Well! I am Lady d'Orbigny!" At this name Rudolph started. It was the stepmother of Madame d'Harville. Instead of remaining in the shade he advanced; and, by the light of the day and the lamp, he easily recognized her, from the description Clemence had more than once given him. "Lady d'Orbigny!" repeated Mrs. Pipelet, "that's the name; you can go up, madame." The step-mother of Clemence passed rapidly before the lodge. "Look at that!" cried the portress, in a triumphant manner; "gammoned the citizen! know her name--she is called D'Orbigny; my means were not bad, Mr. Rudolph? But what is the matter? You are quite pensive!" "This lady has been here before?" asked Rudolph. "Yes, last night; as soon as she was gone, M. Bradamanti went out, probably to take his place in the diligence for to-day; for on his return, last night, he begged me to go with his trunk to the office, as he could not depend upon that little devil Tortillard." "And where is M. Bradamanti going to? do you know?" "To Normandy--to Alencon." Rudolph remembered that the estate of Aubiers, where M. d'Orbigny resided, was situated in Normandy. There could be no doubt the quack was going to see the father of Clemence for no good purpose. "It is the departure of M. Bradamanti that will finely provoke old Seraphin!" said Madame Pipelet. "She is like a mad wolf after M. Cesar, who avoids her as much as he can; for he told me to conceal from her that he was going to leave to-night; thus, when she returns, she will find nobody at home! I'll profit by this to speak of your young woman. Apropos, how is she called--Ciec?" "Cecely." "It is the same as if you said Cecile with an _i_ at the end. All the same; I must put a piece of paper in my snuff-box to remember this name--Cici--Casi--Cecily, good, I have it." "Now I go to see Mlle. Rigolette," said Rudolph; and, singularly preoccupied with the visit of Madame d'Orbigny to Polidori, he ascended to the fourth story. CHAPTER XIX. RIGOLETTE'S FIRST GRIEF. Rigolette's chamber shone with coquettish nicety; a heavy silver watch, placed on the chimney, marked four o'clock; the very cold weather having passed, the economical workwoman had not put any fire in her stove. Hardly could one see from the window any part of the sky, the rough, irregular mass of roofs, garrets, and high chimneys, on the other side of the street, forming the horizon. Suddenly a ray of the sun, astray as it were, glancing between two high roofs, came to light up, for some moments, with its purple tints, the windows of the room.