ved an ardent passion for Mademoiselle de
la Tour--so ardent and bewildering as not only to blind him to the
great disparity of age between himself and her--which he might have
thought the much greater disparity of fortune in his favour would
balance and reconcile--but to the very important fact, that Hector
Bertrand, a young _menuisier_ (carpenter), who had recently commenced
business on his own account, and whom he so frequently met at the
charming _modiste's_ shop, was her accepted, affianced lover. An
_eclaircissement_, accompanied by mortifying circumstances, was not,
however, long delayed.

It occurred one fine evening in July. M. Derville, in passing through
the _marche aux fleurs_, had selected a brilliant bouquet for
presentation to Mademoiselle de la Tour; and never to him had she
appeared more attractive, more fascinating, than when accepting, with
hesitating, blushing reluctance, the proffered flowers. She stepped
with them into the little sitting-room behind the shop; M. Derville
followed; and the last remnant of discretion and common-sense that had
hitherto restrained him giving way at once, he burst out with a
vehement declaration of the passion which was, he said, consuming him,
accompanied, of course, by the offer of his hand and fortune in
marriage. Marie de la Tour's first impulse was to laugh in the face of
a man who, old enough to be her father, addressed her in such terms;
but one glance at the pale face and burning eyes of the speaker,
convinced her that levity would be ill-timed--possibly dangerous. Even
the few civil and serious words of discouragement and refusal with
which she replied to his ardent protestations, were oil cast upon
flame. He threw himself at the young girl's feet, and clasped her
knees in passionate entreaty, at the very moment that Hector Bertrand,
with one De Beaune, entered the room. Marie de la Tour's exclamation
of alarm, and effort to disengage her dress from Derville's grasp, in
order to interpose between him and the new-comers, were simultaneous
with several heavy blows from Bertrand's cane across the shoulders of
the kneeling man, who instantly leaped to his feet, and sprang upon
his assailant with the yell and spring of a madman. Fortunately for
Bertrand, who was no match in personal strength for the man he had
assaulted, his friend De Beaune promptly took part in the encounter;
and after a desperate scuffle, during which Mademoiselle de la Tour's
remonstrances and