"You may imagine that I did not sleep much that night. I formed a thousand plans and rejected them again. Only one thing was certain: I must save Leonora from this hell. I did not doubt what was my duty for a moment. "And yet I rose next morning without having formed a resolution. I was not afraid for myself, for my heart could not be torn more fearfully than it had been torn the night before. I was afraid only for Leonora, that a sudden meeting might humiliate her too fearfully, might kill her perhaps. A few days passed, and I found no better plan after all than to go straight to her. My friend shook his head whenever I spoke of my project. 'But, _mon cher_,' he said again and again, 'don't you see that you still love her?' Was he right? I do not know. At all events, this kind of love was very different from ordinary love, for it knew nothing of humiliated pride, of mortified vanity--nay, nothing even of the fear of possibly becoming ridiculous, by attempting to save a woman who did not at all desire to be saved. "When I had at last decided in my own heart, I went one forenoon to the house on the Boulevard. The porter smiled as he gave his customary reply: '_Qui, monsieur, au troisème!_' to my question if Mademoiselle Eléonore was living there. But he added: 'Mademoiselle will hardly be at home for anybody; she only came home towards daybreak.' "I ascended the staircase covered with costly carpets; in the third story I read on a china plate near a bell-rope: '_Mademoiselle Eléonore de Saint Georges._' How many names had the poor girl had, since she had laid aside the honest name of her father? "I rang the bell. An ugly woman, half waiting-maid, half companion, and looking all the uglier because of the neatness of her dress and the affected respectability of her manner, opened and asked me what I wanted, I wished to see Mademoiselle Eléonore. "'Mademoiselle is indisposed and cannot see anybody to-day.' "'But I must see her.' "'Impossible,' said the woman, 'I have just sent for a doctor.' "'But, madame, I am the doctor.' "'_Ah, c'est autre chose, entrez, monsieur le docteur._' "She led me through a small entry into a lofty, stately apartment, furnished with almost princely splendor, and asked me to wait there a few minutes, until her mistress should be able to see me. "'Has mademoiselle got up yet?' "'Yes; I shall be back in a moment.' "She disappeared behind a thick curtain. "I remained standing in the centre of the room, and looked upon all the splendor by which I was surrounded--the luscious paintings by Watteau and Boucher in their broad, gilt frames; the Chinese pagodas upon the marble mantelpiece; the vases and cups of finest porcelain, the luxurious divans and sofas--and I felt like the physician who is looking upon the lace cuff of a hand which he is called in to amputate. Had I not come here as a physician? Was I not here now under the pretext of being a physician?