again, and Virginie was blushing, and hiding something in her bosom.

"Pierre was now all impatience to set off and find his cousin, But his
mother seemed to want him for small domestic purposes even more than
usual; and he had chafed over a multitude of errands connected with the
Hotel before he could set off and search for his cousin at his usual
haunts. At last the two met and Pierre related all the events of the
morning to Morin. He said the note off word by word. (That lad this
morning had something of the magpie look of Pierre--it made me shudder to
see him, and hear him repeat the note by heart.) Then Morin asked him to
tell him all over again. Pierre was struck by Morin's heavy sighs as he
repeated the story. When he came the second time to the note, Morin
tried to write the words down; but either he was not a good, ready
scholar, or his fingers trembled too much. Pierre hardly remembered,
but, at any rate, the lad had to do it, with his wicked reading and
writing. When this was done, Morin sat heavily silent. Pierre would
have preferred the expected outburst, for this impenetrable gloom
perplexed and baffled him. He had even to speak to his cousin to rouse
him; and when he replied, what he said had so little apparent connection
with the subject which Pierre had expected to find uppermost in his mind,
that he was half afraid that his cousin had lost his wits.

"'My Aunt Babette is out of coffee.'

"'I am sure I do not know,' said Pierre.

"'Yes, she is. I heard her say so. Tell her that a friend of mine has
just opened a shop in the Rue Saint Antoine, and that if she will join me
there in an hour, I will supply her with a good stock of coffee, just to
give my friend encouragement. His name is Antoine Meyer, Number One