linen, and even agreed to supply pocket-money to the extent of ten francs
a month. Thus, five days after Norine had entered Madame Bourdieu's
establishment, Mathieu decided to return thither to hand the girl her
first ten francs and tell her that he had settled everything.

He found her there in the boarders' refectory with some of her companions
in the house--a tall, thin, severe-looking Englishwoman, with lifeless
eyes and bloodless lips, who called herself Amy, and a pale red-haired
girl with a tip-tilted nose and a big mouth, who was known as Victoire.
Then, too, there was a young person of great beauty answering to the name
of Rosine, a jeweller's daughter, so Norine told Mathieu, whose story was
at once pathetic and horrible. The young man, while waiting to see Madame
Bourdieu, who was engaged, sat for a time answering Norine's questions,
and listening to the others, who conversed before him in a free and open
way. His heart was wrung by much that he heard, and as soon as he could
rid himself of Norine he returned to the waiting-room, eager to complete
his business. There, however, two women who wished to consult Madame
Bourdieu, and who sat chatting side by side on a sofa, told him that she
was still engaged, so that he was compelled to tarry a little longer. He
ensconced himself in a large armchair, and taking a newspaper from his
pocket, began to read it. But he had not been thus occupied for many
minutes before the door opened and a servant entered, ushering in a lady
dressed in black and thickly veiled, whom she asked to be good enough to
wait her turn. Mathieu was on the point of rising, for, though his back
was turned to the door, he could see, in a looking-glass, that the new
arrival was none other than Morange's wife, Valerie. After a moment's
hesitation, however, the sight of her black gown and thick veil, which
seemed to indicate that she desired to escape recognition, induced him to
dive back into his armchair and feign extreme attention to his newspaper.
She, on her side, had certainly not noticed him, but by glancing