A week had elapsed during which Julia had spent almost her whole time in loitering around the Marquis de Villebelle's hotel; she had not gained much by this however, for all that she could be sure of was that Villebelle was not there. Chaudoreille, for his part, had made no better progress; he was very sure that the marquis had not been to the barber's, and the latter kept very closely to his shop, rarely leaving home except to go to his customers' residences. What most surprised Chaudoreille was the fact that since he had watched he had not once seen young Urbain go to the barber's house nor had he encountered him in his prowling about the streets. He was ignorant of the fact of which the reader is well aware, that the young bachelor was still kept in bed by fever, and that the impatience and grief which had caused his illness had greatly retarded his convalescence. Julia whose proud and haughty spirit could not endure the situation in which she found herself, keenly desired to wreak her vengeance on the lover who had betrayed and abandoned her, and Villebelle being still absent, she charged Chaudoreille to take her place in the neighborhood of the hotel, and stationed herself in the Rue des Bourdonnais; Chaudoreille accepted this change with great pleasure, delighted to leave the neighborhood of the barber's house. The young woman did not intend merely to watch Touquet's dwelling, she wished to introduce herself there, to talk with Marguerite, to learn from the good old woman all the details of Blanche's disappearance. Julia was courageous and enterprising; she was Italian, and she wished to revenge herself; and thus possessed three times as much as was necessary to compass her ends. She was not afraid of Touquet, but she readily felt that it was only in his absence that she could hope to speak to Marguerite, and she formed her plan in accordance with the information which she had received in the neighborhood, in regard to the old servant. Towards evening, Julia saw the barber leave his dwelling. As soon as he had departed, she went and knocked at the door of the house. Marguerite was disconsolate at having no news of her dear Blanche, and what completed the despair of the good old woman was that she could hear nothing of Urbain. When she uttered the name of Blanche before her master he ordered her to be silent in a severe tone, and it was only in solitude that she dared to give way without constraint to her grief. "Who is there?" asked Marguerite, following her custom. "Someone who brings you news of Blanche," answered Julia.