it is doing. Within a year after the occurrence that has just been
narrated an old friend of Gambetta's met with an accident which confined
him to his house. The statesman strolled to his friend's residence. The
accident was a trifling one, and the mistress of the house was holding
a sort of informal reception, answering questions that were asked her by
the numerous acquaintances who called.

As Gambetta was speaking, of a sudden he saw before him, at the
extremity of the room, the lady of his dreams, the sphinx of his waking
hours, the woman who four years earlier had torn up the note which he
addressed to her, but who more recently had kept his written words. Both
of them were deeply agitated, yet both of them carried off the situation
without betraying themselves to others, Gambetta approached, and they
exchanged a few casual commonplaces. But now, close together, eye and
voice spoke of what was in their hearts.

Presently the lady took her leave. Gambetta followed closely. In the
street he turned to her and said in pleading tones:

"Why did you destroy my letter? You knew I loved you, and yet all these
years you have kept away from me in silence."

Then the girl--for she was little more than a girl--hesitated for a
moment. As he looked upon her face he saw that her eyes were full of
tears. At last she spoke with emotion:

"You cannot love me, for I am unworthy of you. Do not urge me. Do not
make promises. Let us say good-by. At least I must first tell you of my
story, for I am one of those women whom no one ever marries."

Gambetta brushed aside her pleadings. He begged that he might see her
soon. Little by little she consented; but she would not see him at her
house. She knew that his enemies were many and that everything he did
would be used against him. In the end she agreed to meet him in the park
at Versailles, near the Petit Trianon, at eight o'clock in the morning.

When she had made this promise he left her. Already a new inspiration
had come to him, and he felt that with this woman by his side he could
accomplish anything.

At the appointed hour, in the silence of the park and amid the sunshine
of the beautiful morning, the two met once again. Gambetta seized her
hands with eagerness and cried out in an exultant tone:

"At last! At last! At last!"

But the woman's eyes were heavy with sorrow, and upon her face there was
a settled melancholy. She trembled at his touch and almost shrank from
him.