"PUNCTUAL enough was the young man to the very hour at which I myself had appointed to deliver up his purchase. He appeared enchanted, but I examined him closely, and thought that he looked paler and more haggard than before, and it was with bitterness that he asked me if there was aught beside to pay. From the tone in which the poor youth asked the question, I could not have demanded more, even had the bouquet cost me twice as much as I had charged him.

"It was late that same evening when I hastened to seek Paquerette. No one had ever thought of her festival, and I rejoiced by anticipation in the delight which the surprise would occasion her, for, as Melanie had often observed, her saint was not to be found in the calendar,' and none were sufficiently interested in the solitary orphan to notice the affinity between the festival of Easter (Pâques) with the name of Paquerette. But I little dreamt of the toilsome task which the self-imposed duty would exact from me. The mansion of which Françoise was portress, was an old ruined pile of building, vast and magnificent in its extent, but tumbling to decay, for the owner, one of the old aristocrats, not to be wheedled into forgetfulness of the past, and disgusted with the new order of things, had vowed never to appear in Paris, nor to occupy his residence there while it lasted. He resided entirely upon his estate in the country, nor heeded the state of decay and ruin into which his town mansion was gradually falling.

"Paquerette was lodged on the seventh story of the building, while Françoise, as is generally the case with those of her office, had no other lodging than the little loge at the bottom of the court next the great gate, wherein she herself with her daughter Melanie dwelt and slept.

"Thus Paquerette went and came as best beseemed her; none greeted the poor orphan when she returned to her solitary chamber, none watched her footsteps when she departed.

"It was a wearisome task to toil up the countless steps of that dark and dirty staircase, and I thought with pity of poor Paquerette, with her slight attenuated form and delicate habit, having to toil up day after day. As I drew nearer to the chamber it seemed even darker and more deserted. Long tiled passages, so long and dismal that you could not see to the end of them, stretched right and left in every direction, and the footsteps echoed with a hollow sound as they paced each broad deserted landing. Ere I mounted the last flight I was compelled to pause from sheer fatigue, and I seated myself on the stairs panting for want of breath, and perspiring at every pore. It was almost dark without, and the dusty and cobwebbed windows, admitting even in broad day but little light, were now scarcely perceptible. The whole place seemed so silent

and lonely, that as I sat thus alone I could not help wondering at the courage which enabled Paquerette to spend the long days and nights there in solitude, far from the cheering sound of human accents, and beyond the reach of aid in case of danger.

"As I sat thus musing amid the darkness, I was suddenly aroused from my reverie by the sweet, clear tones of a female voice, which broke the stillness and reverberated through those long, mysterious corridors with an effect almost unearthly! Presently they ceased, and ere I had recovered from my astonishment the strain was caught up by the rich, deep accents of a man's voice, so sweet and passionate that I stood transfixed with admiration. They ceased in their turn, and then again did the feminine notes pour forth with redoubled energy, and were again answered as before, until at length they both swelled together in one wild delicious harmony, and as the echo of their voices rose and fell amid the silence, it seemed like the distant chant of unearthly spirits!

"I stole softly, almost with a feeling of awe, and fearing to break the spell which I deemed was upon me, up the remaining flight of stairs. It was not till I had almost gained the top, that I recognised the voice of Paquerette, and then could not forbear laughing outright at the strong beating of my heart, and the trembling of my limbs; but even in the short space of time necessary to reach the door of her chamber, a thousand ideas rushed through my brain. A sudden faintness came over me at the thought of what I might discover. I now almost regretted having thus intruded upon her privacy, and, for an instant, thought that I had better leave my offering at her door, and depart. But no-she could not be unworthy; she was too young and innocent, and withal, too proud, despite of that same youth and innocence: and this second reflection made me angry with myself for suffering a moment's doubt of her perfect rectitude to cross my mind. Was she not the daughter of the Count de Fontenay? What! though her ancestors had left her nought but a blighted name, one that now 'twas neither honour nor joy to bear, yet had they transmitted too, the peculiar pride which had formed the great reproach of the old aristocracy, and with her this sentiment was turned by adversity into a jealous self-respect, and into scorn of all that was base or unworthy.

"The door was ajar, which circumstance made my heart leap for joy, for it at once dispelled all my suspicions. I pushed it gently open, and looked in. The apartment was small and ill furnished; one glance sufficed to take in its whole extent. Her small white bed stood in one corner of the room, and an antique music-stand, doubtless the spoil of some pillaged chapel, in another; and save these, there was little else within. The ceiling was so low that, excepting in the centre, it would have been impossible for any person of moderate height to stand upright, and yet, even with all this poverty, the flowers which she had gathered there, and which occupied every vacant space, gave to the apartment an air of elegance, while a strange and heavenly odour, so sweet and delicate that I panted for an instant to inhale it, issued through the open door.

"The little room was dimly lighted, and at first I could not even discern Paquerette. I gave one look around; that look sufficed to convince me that the maiden was alone! She was kneeling, and so absorbed, whether in meditation or in prayer I could not tell, that she did not even perceive my entrance. How beautiful she was as she knelt thus! one

hand supporting her head, and the other hanging listlessly by her side, grasping, as was usual with her when alone, a freshly gathered bunch of flowers, which from time to time she carried to her lips, while her pale face and dark hair were thrown out in the obscure light by the worn-out velvet-covering of the old arm-chair upon which she was leaning, one of those antique pieces of furniture, the outcasts of palaces, then to be met with in every garret.

"It was not till I called her by her name that she became aware of my presence. She did not start or tremble when she saw me, but advanced to meet me with the frank affection that was her wont, and thanked me sweetly for my visit to her lonely chamber.

"'Tis to greet you, and wish you all blessings upon the occasion of your fête, Paquerette,' I said, presenting her my offering. She was evidently moved by this attention, and flinging her arms around my neck, embraced me warmly.

""'Tis like my own Georgette,' she said, with a kindly smile, thus to remember the poor orphan, whom none seek to but what am I saying, I am ungrateful to Providence for thus complaining. See, kind as thou art, thou art not yet the kindest-early as thou art in thy congratulation, yet there has been one before thee!"

"She held up, as she spoke, the bunch of flowers I had before observed in her hand. The cold rays of the April moon were just streaming through the little casement, so bright and vivid as to quench the light of the taper on the hearth, and as she raised the bouquet up before me, I recognised, in an instant, the one which I had copied from the picture, the one which had been paid its weight in gold, the fond tribute of a first fresh artist love, embalming, with its rare and precious Eastern odours, the lonely mansarde of the poor and portionless orphan-the friendless Paquerette!

"I almost staggered backwards as she playfully held it up and shook it in my face, exclaiming gaily, 'Canst thou rival with all thine art, with all thine skill, the dream of the painter-poet? Canst thine imagination wander thus to distant climes, and set before our eyes the produce of other lands? Look, Georgette, doth not thy heart beat at the sight of these delicate flowers? Mine did this evening when I found them beneath my window.'

"I knew not what to think. I felt sick and giddy at witnessing her delight. There was something mysterious in the coincidence that quite unnerved me. The dark and bitter disappointment of the youth, and his generous self-denying love; then the voice which I had heard as I approached her chamber, mingling its accents with her own, and yet the utter solitude in which I had found her on my entrance, the isolated situation of the chamber also, where many a long tragedy might have been enacted, unknown to all save those engaged therein, every thing combined to impress me with an indescribable feeling of sadness, as of one about to witness some long expected scene which he felt must surely end

in woe.

"I at length found courage to ask her, but hastily and almost in a breath, who had given her this beautiful bouquet, and whose voice I had heard singing as I came up the stairs. Even by the light of the moon I could see a deep blush rise to her pallid cheek, but she did not avert her eyes from my fixed and ardent gaze, nor did she hesitate in her speech as she answered, sweetly ;

666

'It was Louis who gave me yonder flowers. Are they not most beau

tiful? It was Louis whose voice thou didst hear as thou camest up the stair. Does he not sing most sweetly?'

"I felt at that moment as if I had been the sport of some malicious fiend, and once again I gazed around the chamber, expecting still to find my first suspicions realised. Once more the calm pure moon could not look in upon a scene more calm and pure than that. There stood the maiden pale and placid as before, for even the blush upon her cheek was gone; there she still stood, gazing with the look of innocence into my face, and yet with a stranger's love-wrought offering in her hand, and the name of Louis hovering on her lips!

"But where is Louis?' I exclaimed, gaspingly. I see him not.' "The maiden laughed with a light and joyous laugh. Oh, no! surely thou canst not see him, Georgette,' she replied, for he hath retired to rest ere this. He always retires when our prayer is done, and we have sung our hymn to the Blessed Virgin. It is my custom, also,' she added, with a slight yawn, 'only thou hast kindly come to visit me to-night.'

"I was more and more bewildered. A moment's doubt of the maiden's sanity did once cross my mind, but, alas! there was the accursed bouquet, which but too plainly proved that there was no delusion, and the sweet rich tones of that tenor voice were yet ringing in my ears. I was painfully perplexed, but endeavoured to appear composed, and used the same sort of caution that one does in questioning a child or a mad person as I asked, 'Where, then, was Louis when I heard him sing just now ??

"There!' she exclaimed, proudly; and, rushing to the window, opened it, and showing me the low parapet which ran all along the roof; 'tis there he kneels and prays with me. It is from thence his hymn ascends to Heaven with mine!'

"I could scarcely credit my senses as, following her example, I jumped upon the old arm-chair and looked from the casement. We seemed strangely near the moon, the stars seemed larger and more numerous, while, below, the dark abyss yawned with a black and frightful depth. I knew not which to admire most, the love or the bold spirit of that brave young man, as I gazed first upon that narrow parapet, and then downwards from the dizzy height, whence a single glance made the brain reel. I descended, however, without speaking, for, to say the truth, so great was my astonishment that I could find no words; but once more fairly within the chamber, I began to consider what had best be done, and drawing her to the bed, I sat myself down, and gently taking her hand while using every endeavour in my power to disguise the horrible anxiety which beset me, I said, with as much calmness as I could assume, Now come, dearest love, be kind, and tell me all concerning Louis.'"

CHAPTER VI.

THE ORACLE OF LOVE.

"THEN did that pale maiden unfold a tale of such wild impassioned love, of such fond belief and mad adventure, that to me, who already knew the world, it seemed like listening to the narration of a long and beautiful dream; and as she gradually went step by step through all the mazes of her attachment, sobs were all the answer I could give.

"She told me that Louis was by profession a painter, and occupied a room on the same floor as her own chamber, in a house in the street at the corner of which stood the mansion. That a long time before, she could not remember how long, but it seemed already an age agone, he had been

engaged in the painting of some oriental subject, and had procured for the purpose one of those beautiful blue Mecca pigeons whose wings are tinged with the colours of the rising sun; that one day the bird had strayed from its owner, and had flown in at her window; that she had caught it and was endeavouring to soothe its alarm by fond caresses, when the youth himself appeared upon that very parapet before the casement. She owned that she felt some alarm at that moment, the more so, as when she raised her head and looked at him, still holding the affrighted bird upon her finger, he started so violently as almost to throw himself from his balance; that he had, however, quickly recovered himself by catching at the stout branches of her geranium, for which reason she had since then felt more attached than ever to the dear plant; that after she had restored the bird, and Louis had thanked her and was gone, she began to feel more alarm than when he was actually before her eyes, hanging as it were between earth and heaven. And sometimes when alone she would weep at the thought of what might have been the consequence had he really fallen; that some time after this adventure, having drawn the old music-stand near to the open window, she was practising some airs which she would have to repeat at the Conservatoire, when she had suddenly fancied the room somewhat darker than usual, and advancing to ascertain the cause, she had again beheld the owner of the pigeon, calmly seated there upon the dizzy parapet, where any other would scarce have dared to place a hand, yet there he was with his carton on his knees, quietly occupied in taking her portrait! Yes; he had it already sketched before him, there she stood before the old carved lutrin with parted lips as she had been singing, and with up-raised hand marking the measure. It was so like, she said, that to her it seemed as if done by magic.

"It was then that Louis had told her at once with burning eloquence of the sudden yet wild impassioned love with which she had inspired him; a love which suffered him to know no rest; that he had of late spent much of his time upon that aërial parapet, watching and waiting for the least sound which should indicate that she was in her chamber; that having at length heard her voice he had profited by the attention with which she was studying, to sketch another portrait of her which should be more to his satisfaction than the one which he had already done from memory, as she had first burst upon his sight like a vision of heaven, holding to her bosom the fluttering dove. He told her that he could no longer paint or study, that his soul was bound up in memory of her beauty; that his whole time was occupied in contemplation of that portrait, which, however faulty, still bore some resemblauce to her that he sat sometimes watching it till the shades of evening shut all things from his sight, and that he rose to contemplate it long before the daylight could penetrate his modest casement to enable him to distinguish its graceful outline. For he was an orphan, he said, and being poor had no friends, but passed his life in solitude; that before the fatal day on which he had first beheld her he had managed to earn a scanty living by making drawings for the printsellers on the quays, but that since then he had lost all taste for labour; that he had long proposed putting an end to the torment which he endured by the avowal of his passion, by letter, in order to ascertain if he might dare to hope, but that since he had had the good fortune to meet her once more he would not waste the time which such a measure would necessarily occupy, but would at once put the question to herself. "Oh, Paquerette,' I exclaimed, full of alarm and doubt of the youth's integrity, and what answer did you make to this bold request ?'