Then addressing De Morville, "I believe you, monsieur:--By a strange fatality, by a singular chance, when I knew you had urgent reasons for shunning me, I fancied you were actuated by sad, too sad circumstances, in which I might seem to prejudiced eyes to have acted an unworthy part, that would, indeed, have entitled me to your aversion. Your word relieves my fears, I was deceived without doubt, nought concerning this melancholy adventure has transpired. Now then, monsieur, the purpose of this meeting is attained. I came hither to relate to you what the probable consequences of your indiscretion might be. Fortunately my fears were vain, I care little now, whether all the world remark how you avoid me. As for the cause, that is equally indifferent to me. Adieu, monsieur, you are a man of honour, and I doubt not of discretion;" and Madame de Hansfeld rose to quit the box. M. de Morville took her hand respectfully:--"One word more, madame; I shall never, probably, be alone with you again; hear, at least, some portion of my secret, you may then perchance pity me. Alas, you know not the struggle it has cost me to fly you! When a sentiment, the reverse of hatred--Oh! do not take this for a mere effusion of gallantry, but, I implore you, hear me." Madame de Hansfeld, who had risen, resumed her seat, and listened to Monsieur de Morville in profound silence. CHAPTER V THE EXPLANATION "Upon your arrival at Paris, madame," said M. de Morville to Madame de Hansfeld, "before occupying the spacious Hôtel Lambert in the Isle St. Louis, you resided for some time in the Rue St. Guillaume; you are not, perhaps, aware that the adjoining house belonged to my mother." "No, sir, I was not aware of it." "Permit me to enter into some details, puerile, perhaps, but yet indispensable. In my mother's house, a small window, wholly concealed by the leaves of the ivy, looked on to your garden; it was from that window that I first perceived you, madame, and without your suspecting it, for no one could imagine that any eye could penetrate the shady and retired walk which you frequented." Madame de Hansfeld seemed to recall her recollections of the place and answered,-- "I certainly recollect the wall covered with ivy, but I did not know there was a window there." "Forgive my indiscretion, madame; I have bitterly suffered for it." "Explain yourself, sir." "Closely attending upon my sick mother, I rarely quitted the house, my only pleasure was to gaze daily from that window, and the hope of seeing you kept me whole hours there. At last you came, sometimes your steps were slow, sometimes rapid, and you frequently threw yourself as if in agony on a marble seat, or stood motionless with your head buried in your hands. Alas, how often, when after these reveries you raised your head, was your countenance bathed in tears!" At these words M. de Morville's voice faltered with emotion. Madame de Hansfeld replied austerely,--