"But I thought that you had an appointment this morning. Just now you were in great haste to leave me in order to go to the Bois de Boulogne."

"If you have other engagements, monsieur," said Honorine to Edmond, "we should be very sorry to have you neglect them on our account."

"No, madame, no, I a.s.sure you that I have no other important engagement for to-day. I was going to drive in the Bois; but one always has time for that."

"Oh, yes!" cried Agathe; "besides, I think it will be fine all day."

And the girl smiled at Edmond, to thank him for persisting in his plan of accompanying the agent.

"But the person who is waiting for you," muttered Chamoureau, as he looked for his hat. "You told me that----"

"It's of no consequence. It's a friend of mine, an idler like myself, and it makes no difference to him whether he goes to the Bois to-day or to-morrow.--Come, are you ready? How slow you are in finding your hat!"

"You don't give me time to breathe. I can't go to see Monsieur Courtivaux in a skull-cap."

At last, thanks to Edmond, Chamoureau was ready to start. They all left the office together. The young man would have been glad to offer his hand to Agathe to escort her downstairs; but she was as light and active as a doe, and was at the bottom long before the others.

Edmond had come in a _milord_, which was waiting for him at the door; he bade Chamoureau step in, saying:

"Do you know the address of these ladies?"

"Yes, certainly; I must know it."

But Agathe, fearing that their agent might have forgotten their address as well, hastened to say to Edmond:

"Madame Dalmont, Rue des Martyrs, 40."

"Very good, mademoiselle. I shall not forget, you may be sure. Mesdames, you shall have news of your business before night."

"We do not know how to thank you, monsieur."

"I am too happy to be able to serve you. Driver, Rue Jacob, Faubourg Saint-Germain!"

"I say! what about Mademoiselle Amelia, whom you promised to take to drive this morning?" said Chamoureau as they rolled along.

"What do I care for Amelia? Do you suppose that I am going to put myself out for a paltry flower-maker, when I have an opportunity to be of service to such charming women! for they are charming, those two! Tell me, Chamoureau, how long have they been clients of yours? They can't be mother and daughter! Are they sisters, I wonder? Yes, in all probability. And yet they don't at all resemble each other! One of them is married; what does her husband do? do you know him too?"

"Sapristi! Monsieur Edmond, you bewilder me with your questions! I don't know which one to answer.--I have known these ladies a very short time.

They came to my office--ah! I remember only too well it was the day after Mi-Careme! I had just come home in my Spanish costume, thanks to that scamp of a Freluchon. For you know that my brand-new black coat and trousers are at his rooms! and heaven knows whether he will ever come back; once at Havre, he's quite capable of starting for America. If he should do that I'd have his door opened by the police."

"What in the devil are you talking about?--I didn't ask you about your clothes; I asked you who those two pretty women are that I saw at your office just now? The younger one, especially. She must be unmarried; I'll wager that she's hardly sixteen. What a fascinating face! What a sweet expression in her eyes! There is modesty, playfulness, kindliness in her expression. I have never met such a charming young woman! What is her name? The elder lady's name is Dalmont, I know; but the young lady?

tell me--you must know her name."

"Her name is Thelenie de Sainte-Suzanne; you know it well enough, having been so intimate with her; having had that felicity!"

"Come, come, Chamoureau, pay a little more attention to what I say. I am not talking about Thelenie; she has nothing in common with the girl I met just now at your office, thank G.o.d!"

"Madame Sainte-Suzanne is much more beautiful. She's a grown woman, just in her prime!"

"We won't quarrel about our tastes. Adore Thelenie, my dear Monsieur Chamoureau, it is your right! but tell me the name of the charming girl who was with Madame Dalmont."

"Her name! how should I know it? Oh, yes! I remember now that her friend called her Agathe several times."

"Agathe! her name is Agathe, you say! What a sweet name!"

"Thelenie is a much more distinguished name; and the proof is that it isn't to be found in the Saints' Calendar!"

"Then that lady is her friend, her kinswoman, her cousin perhaps. Is she rich?"

"No, her means are very modest."

"What does the husband do?"

"There isn't one; the lady is a widow."

"No husband; so much the better!"

"Why so much the better? Do you propose to marry the widow?"

"I don't say that. But when there is no man in a house----"

"It is easier to get in, you think, eh?"

"Oh, no! just the opposite; for it is almost always the husband who takes his friends to his house."

"There's no man at Madame Sainte-Suzanne's, but that doesn't prevent her receiving men. She received me, indeed she herself invited me to come to see her."

"For G.o.d's sake, Monsieur Chamoureau, let us drop Thelenie!"

"I am in love with her, monsieur, I am pa.s.sionately in love with her!"

"So it would seem, as your pa.s.sion made you forget the business Madame Dalmont placed in your hands.--Ah! that was very bad!"

"Here is Monsieur Courtivaux's house; are you going up with me?"

"I should say so! you are quite capable of talking to him of nothing but Thelenie!"

Edmond accompanied the agent to the apartment of the owner of the house at Ch.e.l.les. He was very accommodating; he was anxious to get rid of his little country estate, and thanks to the eloquence of Edmond, who impressed it upon him that the purchaser was a young widow of small means, he consented to pay the expenses of the transaction. He gave them his notary's address, and suggested that they meet there at three o'clock on the following day. Edmond declared that Madame Dalmont would be there punctually, and informed Monsieur Courtivaux that he would go at once to advise the notary.

While the young man hastily made this arrangement, Chamoureau stood in rapt contemplation before a woman's portrait, and whispered in Edmond's ear:

"Don't you think it looks like her?"

"Like whom?"

"Her!"

"Mademoiselle Agathe?"