As soon as I was off duty at Versailles I hastened back to Paris; and the first thing I did on reaching my old lodging was to mount to the sixth floor, and present myself to Mademoiselle d'Ermay. I found her occupying three small rooms, one of which served her for kitchen, and the one in which she received me was simply, and would have appeared poorly, furnished, but for the exquisite cleanliness and neatness, which gave it an air of elegance. After due inquiries concerning her health, I proceeded to congratulate myself on my good fortune in having the happiness to be under the same roof; begged she would command my services in any way in which they could be useful, and then hastened to change the subject, for I saw refusal trembling on her lips. "I am sorry," said I, "to see you in such apartments as these." "They are quite consistent, sir," said she, "with my slender means and the state of my mind." I cast my eyes towards the window; she understood me, and, bursting into tears, withdrew into the adjoining room to hide her emotion. In fact, from this window not only the Place de Beauveau and the house of M. de Fosseux, but even the windows of his apartments, were visible. In a few minutes she reappeared, perfectly calm, with a serene and even smiling countenance. Never have I known a woman who had so much command over herself, or whose composure lent her such a charm. To see her and resist her sway was beyond the powers of mortal man, and I quitted her presence deeply in love, and resolved to leave no means untried to gain her affections. At the same time I was quite aware that I could not hope for success under a considerable length of time, even if she had not really loved M. de Fosseux. To make a woman forget a faithless lover is an easy task; to render her fickle, under ordinary circumstances, is an enterprise in which many succeed; but to efface the recollection of so bloody a catastrophe, whilst pressing my suit in perhaps the self-same well-remembered words and expressions of its lamented victim, seemed so all but hopeless an undertaking, that it required the stimulus of the most ardent passion not to shrink from it in despair. I had, however, some chances in my favor; I was young, though some years older than Mademoiselle d'Ermay; and as time has now shorn me of personal attractions, I may perhaps be allowed to boast that I was considered a good-looking fellow; finally, in the eyes of such a woman as I then loved, I had one special recommendation--I was poor. Now Mademoiselle d'Ermay, though caring little for the conventional rules of society, was scrupulous to the last degree in all that related to sentiment, generosity and disinterestedness, insomuch that the only circumstance which annoyed her in her connexion with M. de Fosseux was, that he was rich. All she required was the like absolute devotion as that which she herself rendered. It was to such a woman as this that, three months after the death of, M. de Fosseux,