ich stuffs and furniture, but low
in the roof, and somewhat dimly lighted by two windows rather wide than
high. The warm glow of a fire shone on the woodwork of the ceiling,
and as I softly closed the door a log on the hearth gave way, with a
crackling of sparks, which pleasantly broke the luxurious silence. The
next moment a low, sweet voice asked, 'Alphonse, is that you?'

I walked round the settle and came face to face with a beautiful woman
reclining on a couch. On hearing the door open she had raised herself on
her elbow. Now, seeing a stranger before her, she sprang up with a low
cry, and stood gazing at me, her face expressing both astonishment and
anger. She was of middling height, her features regular though somewhat
childlike, her complexion singularly fair. A profusion of golden hair
hung in disorder about her neck, and matched the deep blue of her eyes,
wherein it seemed to me, there lurked more spirit and fire than the
general cast of her features led one to expect.

After a moment's silence, during which she scanned me from head to foot
with great haughtiness--and I her with curiosity and wonder--she spoke.
'Sir!' she said slowly, 'to what am I to attribute this--visit?'

For the moment I was so taken aback by her appearance and extraordinary
beauty, as well as by the absence of any sign of those I sought, that I
could not gather my thoughts to reply, but stood looking vaguely at her.
I had expected, when I entered the room, something so different from
this!

'Well, sir?' she said again, speaking sharply, and tapping her foot on
the floor.

'This visit, madame?' I stammered.

'Call it intrusion, sir, if you please!' she cried imperiously. 'Only
explain it, or begone.'

'I crave leave to do both, madame,' I answered, collecting myself by an
effort. 'I ascended these stairs and opened your door in error--that is
the simple fact--hoping to find a friend of mine here. I was mistaken,
it seems, and it only remains for me to withdraw, offering at the same
time the humblest apologies,' And as I spoke I bowed low and prepared to
retire.

'One moment, sir!' she said quickly, and in an altered tone. 'You are,
perhaps, a friend of M. de Bruhl--of my husband. In that case, if you
desire to leave any message I will--I shall be glad to deliver it.'

She looked so charming that, despite the tumult of my feelings, I could
not but regard her with admiration. 'Alas! madame, I cannot plead
that excuse,' I answered