Madame Rinaldi had aged somewhat, but I knew her directly. However, as I
had never had more than a passing fancy for her, we did not go back to
days which did neither of us any honour.

"I am delighted to see you again," said I; "are you still living with
your husband?"

"You will see him in half an hour, and he will be glad to present his
respects to you."

"I should not at all care for it myself, madam; there are old quarrels
between us which I do not want to renew, so, madam, farewell."

"No, no, don't go yet, sit down."

"Pardon me."

"Irene, don't let the gentleman go."

At these words Irene ran and barred the way--not like a fierce mastiff,
but like an angel, entreating me to stay with that mingled look of
innocence, fear, and hope, of which girls know the effect so well. I felt
I could not go.

"Let me through, fair Irene," said I, "we may see each other somewhere
else."

"Pray do not go before you have seen my father:"

The words were spoken so tenderly that our lips met. Irene was