t repent the omission all my
life; I would not then be guilty of it.

That evening I went to M. Vandenhuten's; but I had bent the bow and
adjusted the shaft in vain; the string broke. I rang the bell at the
great door (it was a large, handsome house in an expensive part of the
town); a manservant opened; I asked for M. Vandenhuten; M. Vandenhuten
and family were all out of town--gone to Ostend--did not know when they
would be back. I left my card, and retraced my steps.

CHAPTER XXII

A WEEK is gone; LE JOUR DES NOCES arrived; the marriage was solemnized
at St. Jacques; Mdlle. Zoraide became Madame Pelet, NEE Reuter; and, in
about an hour after this transformation, "the happy pair," as newspapers
phrase it, were on their way to Paris; where, according to previous
arrangement, the honeymoon was to be spent. The next day I quitted the
pensionnat. Myself and my chattels (some books and clothes) were soon
transferred to a modest lodging I had hired in a street not far off. In
half an hour my clothes were arranged in a commode, my books on a shelf,
and the "flitting" was effected. I should not have been unhappy that day
had not one pang tortured me--a longing to go to the Rue Notre Dame
aux Neiges, resisted, yet irritated by an inward resolve to avoid
that street till such time as the mist of doubt should clear from my
prospects.

It was a sweet September evening--very mild, very still; I had nothing
to do; at that hour I knew Frances would be equally released from
occupation; I thought she might possibly be wishing for her master, I
knew I wished for my pupil. Imagination began with her low whispers,
infusing into my soul the soft tale of pleasures that might be.

"You will find her reading or writing," said she; "you can take your
seat at her side; you need not startle her peace by undue excitement;
you need not embarrass her manner by unusual action or language. Be as
you always are; look over what she has written; listen while she reads;
chide her, or quietly approve; you know the effect of either system; you
know her smile when pleased, you know the play of her looks when roused;
you have the secret of awakening that expression you will, and you can
choose amongst that pleasant variety. With you she will sit silent as
long as it suits you to talk alone; you can hold her under a potent
spell: intelligent as she is, eloquent as she can be, you can seal her
lips, and veil her bright countenance with diffidence;