This door was opened at my coming, and very much surprised I was to find inside the coach Mam’selle Catherine, dressed in pink satin, her head covered with a hood of black lace, underneath which her fair hair seemed to sport. Confused I remained standing on the step. “Come in,” she said, “and sit down near me. Shut the door if you please; you must not be seen. Just now in passing on the Cours I saw you sitting at the café. Immediately I had you fetched by the good friar, whom I had attached to me for the Lenten exercises, and whom I have kept since, because, in whatever position one may be, it is necessary to have piety. You looked very well, M. Jacques, sitting before your little table, your sword across your thighs and with the sad look of a man of quality. I have always been friendly disposed towards you and I am not of that kind of women who in their prosperity disregard their former friends.” “Eh! What? Mam’selle Catherine,” I exclaimed, “this coach, these lackeys, this satin dress----” “They are the outcome,” she replied, “of the kindness of M. de la Guéritude, who is of the best set and one of the richest financiers. He has lent money to the king. He is an excellent friend whom, for all the world, I should not wish to offend. But he is not as amiable as you, M. Jacques. He has also given me a little house at Grenelle, which I will show you from the cellar to the garret. M. Jacques, I am mighty glad to see you on the road to fortune. Real merit is always discovered. You’ll see my bedroom, which is copied from that of Mademoiselle Davilliers. It is covered all over with looking-glass and there are lots of grotesque figures. How is the old fellow your father? Between ourselves, he somewhat neglects his wife and his cook-shop. It is very wrong of a man in his position. But let us speak of yourself.” “Let us speak of you, Mam’selle Catherine,” said I. “You are so very pretty and it is a great pity you love the Capuchin.” Nothing could be said against a government contractor. “Oh!” she said, “do not reproach me with Friar Ange. I have him for my salvation only and if I would give a rival to M. de la Guéritude it would be----” “Would be?” “Don’t ask me, M. Jacques; you’re an ungrateful man, for you know that I always singled you out, but you do not care about me.” “Quite the contrary, Mam’selle Catherine. I smarted under your mockery. You sneered at my beardless chin. Many a time you have told me that I am but a ninny.” “And that was true, M. Jacques, truer than you believed it to be. Why could you not see that I had a liking for you?” “Why, Catherine, you are so pretty as to make one fear. I did not dare to look at you. And one day I clearly Law that you were thoroughly offended with me.” “I had every reason for it, M. Jacques; you took that Savoyard in preference to me, that scum of the Port Saint Nicolas.”