"Paris is not like Sauveterre, my dear friend; and people are not solely
occupied with their neighbors' doings. Vine Street is quite a deserted
street; and the countess took the greatest precautions in coming and
going."

"Well, granted, as far as the outside world is concerned. But within?
You must have had somebody to stay in the house and keep it in order
when you were away, and to wait upon you when you were there?"

"I had an English maid-servant."

"Well, this girl must know the countess?"

"She has never caught a glimpse of her even."

"Oh!"

"When the countess was coming down, or when she was going away, or when
we wanted to walk in the garden, I sent the girl on some errand. I have
sent her as far as Orleans to get rid of her for twenty-four hours. The
rest of the time we staid up stairs, and waited upon ourselves."

Evidently M. Magloire was suffering. He said,--

"You must be under a mistake. Servants are curious, and to hide from
them is only to make them mad with curiosity. That girl has watched you.
That girl has found means to see the countess when she came there. She
must be examined. Is she still in your service?"