Before I left my office I wrote an advertisement for the personal columns of the daily papers, to the effect that if Philip Barlow called upon or communicated with me, he would hear of something very much to his advantage. Instructing my clerk to insert the advertisement in three of the principal newspapers, I went to my lodgings and made a change in my appearance, which I deemed prudent, in view of my visit to Madame Lourbet. That lady was not in her shop when I entered it. In response to a rap on the counter, she issued from an inner room, and asked what I required. There was a glass panel in the door of this room, across which a green curtain was drawn. I have a faculty of observation which enables me to see a great deal at a glance. While I was making a few small purchases, I entered 'into conversation with her. I said that I had been recommended to her shop, but had some difficulty in finding it, in consequence of the name over the window being altered. She admitted the alteration, and said that the business would in future be conducted under the new name. "Your own name, I presume, madame?" I said. "My own name," she answered. "It makes no difference in what I sell." "None at all," I said, briskly. "You were spoken of, I remember, as Madame Annette." "That, also, is my name. May I ask, monsieur, by whom you were recommended?" I watched her face keenly as I replied, "Madame, or rather, Mrs. Fordham." As I uttered the name I observed a slight disturbance of the green curtain. "Pardon me, monsieur," she said, and went into the private room, the door of which she carefully opened and shut. "Now," thought I, "what is the meaning of this, and will it make any difference in Madame Lourbet's behavior?" It made a perceptible difference. Something had passed between her and the person in the inner room which had put her on her guard, and she was watching me now as keenly as I was watching her. "Madame Fordham," she remarked, with assumed indifference, continuing our conversation. "Who is Madame Fordham?" "I supposed she was a customer of yours," I answered. "It may be," she said. "Oh, yes, it may be; but does one know all one's customers?" "That would be difficult," I said, laughing, "with such a connection as you have, madame." "You are right, monsieur, it would be difficult. Do you require anything more?" "Nothing more, thank you, madame." She let an arrow fly. "I will send the articles home and the bill, if monsieur will kindly give me his address." "Much obliged, madame," was my reply: "I will pay for them, and take them with me."