ow Lemercier better than I, take him to be a man
who would commit an impertinence to a woman unless there were viveurs of
his own sex to see him do it?"

Alain smiled. "No. Frederic's real nature is an admirable one, and if
he ever do anything that he ought to be ashamed of, 'twill be from the
pride of showing how finely he can do it. Such was his character at
college, and such it still seems at Paris. But it is true that the lady
has forsaken her former walk; at least I--I have not seen her since the
day I first beheld her in company with Frederic. Yet--yet, pardon me,
you were going to the Bois on the chance of seeing her. Perhaps she has
changed the direction of her walk, and--and--"

The Marquis stopped short, stammering and confused.

The Englishman scanned his countenance with the rapid glance of a
practised observer of men and things, and after a short pause said: "If
the lady has selected some other spot for her promenade, I am ignorant
of it; nor have I ever volunteered the chance of meeting with her, since
I learned--first from Lemercier, and afterwards from others--that her
destination is the stage. Let us talk frankly, Marquis. I am accustomed
to take much exercise on foot, and the Bois is my favourite resort: one
day I there found myself in the allee which the lady we speak of used
to select for her promenade, and there saw her. Something in her face
impressed me; how shall I describe the impression? Did you ever open a
poem, a romance, in some style wholly new to you, and before you were
quite certain whether or not its merits justified the interest which the
novelty inspired, you were summoned away, or the book was taken out
of your hands? If so, did you not feel an intellectual longing to have
another glimpse of the book? That illustration describes my impression,
and I own that I twice again went to the same allee. The last time
I only caught sight of the young lady as she was getting into her
carriage. As she was then borne away, I perceived one of the custodians
of the Bois; and learned, on questioning him, that the lady was in the
habit of walking always alone in the same allee at the same hour on most
fine days, but that he did not know her name or address. A motive of
curiosity--perhaps an idle one--then made me ask Lemercier, who boasts
of knowing his Paris so intimately, if he could inform me who the lady
was. He undertook to ascertain."

"But," interposed the Marquis, "he did not ascertain wh