You will see how by inductions I reached the truth. I don't know the woman of this piano; I nevertheless will swear she exists. Moreover, I know she is young, pretty, has a good figure, is graceful and easy in her manner, and is adored by some one in the château. If any ordinary woman had left her embroidery on the table, if she had upset the stool in leaving the piano, two idle nervous young men like yourselves would from curiosity and ennui have examined the embroidery, disarranged the vase of flowers, picked up the stool, and closed the piano. But no hand dared to meddle with this holy disorder under pretext of arranging it. These evidences, still fresh and undisturbed, attest a respect that belongs only to love. This woman, to me unknown, is then young and pretty, since she is so ardently loved, and by more than one person, as I shall proceed to prove. She has a commanding figure, because her embroidery is fine. I know not if she be maid or wife, but this I do know, if she is not married, the vestiges that she left in the parlor indicate a great independence of position and character. If she is married, she is not governed by her husband, or indeed she may be a widow. Allow me to recall your conversation with Edgar at dinner. Hitherto I have remarked that in all discussions of painting, music, literature and love, your opinions always coincided with Edgar's; to hear you speak was to hear Edgar, and _vice versa_. In opinions and sentiments you were twin-brothers. Now listen how you both expressed yourselves before me on that day. "I believe," said Edgar, "that love is a modern invention, and woman was invented by André Chénier, and perfected by Victor Hugo, Dumas and Balzac. We owe this precious conquest to the revolution of '89. Before that, love did not exist; Cupid with his bow and quiver reigned as a sovereign. There were no women, there were only _beauties_. "O, miracle des belles, Je vous enseignerais un nid de tourterelles." "These two lines have undergone a thousand variations under the pens of a thousand poets. Women were only commended for their eyes--very beautiful things when they _are_ beautiful, but they should not be made the object of exclusive admiration. A beauty possessing no attraction but beautiful eyes would soon lose her sway over the hearts of men. Racine has used the words _eye_ and _eyes_ one hundred and sixty-five times in _Andromache_. Woman has been deprived of her divine crown of golden or chestnut hair; she has been dethroned by having it covered with white powder. We have avenged woman for her long neglect; we have preserved the _eyes_ and added all the other charms. Thus women love us poets; and in our days Orpheus would not be torn to pieces by snowy hands on the shores of the Strymon." "Ah! that is just like you, Edgar," you said, with a sad laugh and a would-be calm voice. "At dessert you always give us a dish of paradoxes. I myself greatly prefer Montmorency cherries."