"To have said good-bye would have made our parting none the lighter. By
the time you decipher this hieroglyphic I shall be some miles on my way:
Address Hôtel de Russie, Berlin. Adieu, Damon; God bless you. O.D."

"How long is it since this letter was given to you?" said I, without
taking my eyes from the card.

The _commissionnaire_ made no reply. I repeated the question, looked up
impatiently, and found that the man was already gone.



CHAPTER XX.

THE CHATEAU DE SAINTE AULAIRE.

"Mark yon old mansion frowning through the trees,
Whose hollow turret wooes the whistling breeze."

My acquaintance with Mademoiselle Josephine progressed rapidly;
although, to confess the truth, I soon found myself much less deeply in
love than I had at first supposed. For this disenchantment, fate and
myself were alone to blame. It was not her fault if I had invested her
with a thousand imaginary perfections; nor mine if the spell was broken
as soon as I discovered my mistake.

Too impatient to wait till Sunday, I made my way on Saturday afternoon
to Rue Aubry-le-Boucher. I persuaded myself that I was bound to call on
her, in order to conclude our arrangements for the following day. At all
events, I argued, she might forget the engagement, or believe that I had