send in his card to
Madame de Bellegarde would be a waste of ceremony; she would certainly
decline to receive him. On the other hand he could not force his way
into her presence. It annoyed him keenly to think that he might be
reduced to the blind satisfaction of writing her a letter; but he
consoled himself in a measure with the reflection that a letter might
lead to an interview. He went home, and feeling rather tired--nursing a
vengeance was, it must be confessed, a rather fatiguing process; it
took a good deal out of one--flung himself into one of his brocaded
fauteuils, stretched his legs, thrust his hands into his pockets, and,
while he watched the reflected sunset fading from the ornate house-tops
on the opposite side of the Boulevard, began mentally to compose a cool
epistle to Madame de Bellegarde. While he was so occupied his servant
threw open the door and announced ceremoniously, "Madame Brett!"

Newman roused himself, expectantly, and in a few moments perceived upon
his threshold the worthy woman with whom he had conversed to such good
purpose on the starlit hill-top of Fleurieres. Mrs. Bread had made for
this visit the same toilet as for her former expedition. Newman was
struck with her distinguished appearance. His lamp was not lit, and as
her large, grave face gazed at him through the light dusk from under
the shadow of her ample bonnet, he felt the incongruity of such a person
presenting herself as a servant. He greeted her with high geniality and
bade her come in and sit down and make herself comfortable. There was
something which might have touched the springs both of mirth and of
melancholy in the ancient maidenliness with which Mrs. Bread endeavored
to comply with these directions. She was not playing at being fluttered,
which would have been simply ridiculous; she was doing her best to carry
herself as a person so humble that, for her, even embarrassment would
have been pretentious; but evidently she had never dreamed of its being
in her horoscope to pay a visit, at night-fall, to a friendly single
gentleman who lived in theatrical-looking rooms on one of the new
Boulevards.

"I truly hope I am not forgetting my place, sir," she murmured.

"Forgetting your place?" cried Newman. "Why, you are remembering it.
This is your place, you know. You are already in my service; your wages,
as housekeeper, began a fortnight ago. I can tell you my house wants
keeping! Why don't you take off your bonnet and s