"My name was Anspergher when I saw you," she replied, "but now it is
Charpillon; and considering that we only met once, and that I was only
thirteen at the time, I do not wonder at your not recollecting me. I have
been in London with my mother and aunts for the last four years."

"But where had I the pleasure of speaking to you?"

"At Paris."

"In what part of Paris?"

"In the Bazaar. You were with a charming lady, and you gave me these
buckles" (she shewed me them on her shoes), "and you also did me the
honour to kiss me."

I recollected the circumstance, and the reader will remember that I was
with Madame Baret, the fair stocking-seller.

"Now I remember you," said I; "but I do not recognize your aunt."

"This is the sister of the one you saw, but if you will take tea with us
you will see her."

"Where do you live?"

"In Denmark Street, Soho."