"It's very strange," thought Monsieur Vermoncey; "it looks as if that woman were following me! She looks at me in a most extraordinary way. I wonder if she has been told that I am Albert's father; and if she thinks that it was by my advice that he ceased to see her? Yes, that must be the explanation of her keeping her eyes fixed on me. Does she aspire to force me too to do homage to her charms? I propose to show her that she is wasting her time and trouble." Monsieur Vermoncey left the music room and went into that where the card playing was in progress, which few ladies visited. There was a vacant seat at a bouillotte table, and he took it, saying to himself: "That woman is not likely to follow me here." But he had not been playing five minutes, when the fair American appeared, and seated herself in a chair which was close beside his. Monsieur Vermoncey felt unaccountably disturbed; the woman's conduct seemed to him so strange that he was almost frightened. However, as he was not obliged to look at her, he continued to play without turning in her direction, courtesy not requiring him to speak to a lady whom he had never seen before. But several young men, among them Dupétrain the magnetizer, soon joined the fair American and began to converse with her. "How is this, madame? you, in the cardroom?" "Why not, monsieur? Are ladies forbidden to come here?" "Of course not; but the idea of watching a game of cards, when music beckons to you, and the dance--for they have just begun to dance." "Well, messieurs, if I prefer cards to dancing, am I not at liberty to do so?" "Oh! but that cannot be! A pretty woman prefer cards to dancing!" "We have heard you say that you detested cards." "Am I not entitled to change my mind? Ask Monsieur Dupétrain here, who is gifted with second-sight; perhaps he can tell you what attracted me to this salon." "I, fair lady? Ah! I would compel you to tell us, if you would let me put you to sleep!" "Not at this moment; the place would be ill chosen, I should say. But you can often render a lady a great service by putting her to sleep, Monsieur Dupétrain. If I had known you earlier, I would have asked you to draw the horoscope of a young girl--in whom I was very deeply interested." "What happened to her? Was she pretty?" "Lovely!" "Oh! then it must be a love story." "Mon Dieu! yes, messieurs; it is, as you say, a love story--a story of love, and seduction; a very commonplace story to you. But we women are always interested in such stories." "Pray tell us this girl's story, madame."