The old lady confined herself to a nod of assent. Miretta entered the salon. "Come here, Miretta," said Valentine, pointing to the stool; "sit here, and work on my embroidery; this work bores me; in any event, I am in no mood to hold a needle this morning; I am tired. Sit down. Are you comfortable?" "Yes, mademoiselle." "Don't hurry, work at your ease; this foot rest is not needed at present.--Did you see everybody last night, Miretta?" "Yes, mademoiselle; I helped the ladies to take off their cloaks and mantles and shawls in the small reception room." "Ah! to be sure. There were some very pretty ladies, were there not?" "Oh, yes! but----" "Well! finish." "Mademoiselle will think that I mean to pay her a compliment; but I am not given to flattery--I say just what I think." "Well, say it; what do you think?" "That mademoiselle was the most beautiful of all the ladies, married or single, who were at the house last evening." "Really? Why, that is very prettily said.--Do you hear what Miretta says to me, aunt?" Madame de Ravenelle did not reply, but they heard a sound as of prolonged breathing. "Ah! my aunt is asleep this time," continued Valentine; "so much the better; we can talk more freely; but we will speak a little lower.--Well! my poor Miretta, so you consider me beautiful enough to carry the day over many other women. Several gentlemen told me last night what you have just told me. I received a multitude of compliments, attentions, even declarations! I am well aware that I must look upon them as the little courtesies which it is customary to address to ladies, but, after all, I know also that I am not ugly! And, nevertheless, there is one young man who does not choose to see me, for fear that he may be obliged to show me a little attention." "Oh! that is most surprising, mademoiselle; unless, indeed, this young noble has some other passion in his heart!" "That is what I thought, myself; but I am told that it is not so!" "But can anyone know such things?" "Oh! you are right, Miretta; is it possible to know the secrets of the heart? But look you, Miretta: I am very sure of one thing--that is, that you love someone!" "I, mademoiselle?" replied the girl, blushing. "Yes, yes! you! Come, tell me the secrets of your heart; since you have been in my service, I have watched you closely; in the first place, you are not light-hearted and merry, as a girl should be; you sigh very often; and when you think that you are not observed, you raise your eyes to heaven as if in entreaty--for whom? Ah! it can only be for the man whom one loves that one addresses such eloquent glances to heaven! Am I wrong, Miretta? have you not in your heart a love which makes you unhappy? Come, confess it!" "Yes, mademoiselle, you are not mistaken; it is true that my heart is--is no longer mine." "Ah! I was perfectly sure of it; but then the man whom you love so dearly does not reciprocate, since you sigh so much?"