Two young men were walking in the Rue de Rivoli one fine morning.

“There is a grand figure before us with a majestic walk,” said one of them. “Walk faster. I would see her face.”

“What! you run after a woman because she walks well? I thought you only admired intellect. Beauty never possesses it, don’t you know that yet, Victor Lazun?”

“No; you don’t know any thing about the matter. Faith! ’tis the lady I met on board the steamboat between Rouen and Havre! I could not then ascertain her name, nor have I caught sight of her since till now. You know my father’s illness compelled me to leave Rouen at a minute’s notice, and you know I only arrived in time to bid him farewell. But I will not now lose sight of her. I will know where she lives.”

“You can easily do that!”

Monsieur Lazun saluted the lady; gave the reasons for his singular behavior at Rouen, which were kindly received, and taking leave, asked permission to call upon her, which she granted.

On returning from her walk she informed Madame Carron of having met Mr. Lazun, and of her giving him her address. A storm of reproaches followed this confession of her indiscretion, so that Eleonore concluded that if she made any friends it would not be through the aid of Madame Carron. In future she should not mention those she met.

But a few days elapsed before Eleonore met Mr. Lazun again. She gave him to understand, very delicately, that her guardian did not like to receive strangers. Which he answered, by saying that he should wait upon Mr. Carron at the earliest opportunity and show him some letters of recommendation, and also bring a friend with him, who was one of the first bankers in Paris, slightly acquainted with Mr. Carron. He thought he could satisfy any one as to his character and social position.

Eleonore heard this with pleasure, for she felt interested in Mr. Lazun, and as she had so few opportunities of conversing with agreeable people, looked upon the young man as quite a god-send.

It was not long before Mr. Carron received a visit from the two gentlemen, and upon the banker’s sending up his name, they were immediately ushered into his study with great attention; but when the object of the visit was made known, “mine host” changed his tone, and rudeness took the place of courtesy. There was no mistaking his manner, and Mr. Lazun knew that his acquaintance was not desired, and that he must give up all thoughts of the fair Eleonore who had made so strong an impression on his fancy.

But fortunately, or unfortunately, my hero and heroine frequently walked in the same direction, (drawn probably by some mesmeric attraction)—by degrees they became strongly attached to each other, and finally, an engagement of marriage took place.

A hint from one of the servants, who had met the lovers in one of their walks, made madame send the young lady directly to the convent of St. Germain, for her communion. She was ordered never to think of marriage, (for Eleonore had immediately confessed her engagement,) she must make herself useful in the family to whom she owed every thing, and work she must and should for them all her life.

Eleonore made no reply to all this, but afterwards, in the solitude of her convent cell, she made this decision: “I will marry Victor Lazun—my debt of gratitude has been paid to my guardians. As a child, my only expense to them was clothing of the poorest quality. My food was not missed in the extravagant household which they kept. To their brother and sister I owe much, and also to Mr. and Mrs. Delombre. They taught me all that I know. Since my arrival in France I have embroidered all madame’s collars, I have done the marketing, overlooked all household affairs, made preserves, done up the muslins, beside mending, sewing, and any little odd job which madame did not like herself.

“This has gone on for two years, and I have done it willingly, but now I am old enough to choose my future course, and shall do so.”

This passage I have copied from a note which she sent to Victor Lazun on her departure for the convent. There, of course, he could not see her, but he well knew that his pretty cousin Victorine La Graviere was at the same convent, and with a little coaxing, he persuaded his aunt to take a note to Victorine, in which he begged his cousin to show Eleonore some kindness for his sake, though without mentioning his name or their relationship.

The acquaintance of the two girls soon ripened into friendship, and it was not long before young Lazun thought his aunt sufficiently interested in Eleonore through his own representations and Victorine’s eulogies, to confide his secret to her care. Yes, dear reader! it was a secret, and you would have laughed to see the dismay on the face of the gentle Countess La Graviere when she learned of his intended marriage.

“But you are not going to marry this poor orphan, are you, Victor? With your rank and favor at court it is quite absurd?”

“I certainly shall, my dear aunt. As to my rank she knows nothing of that, nor my fortune either; so, thank God! she loves me for myself alone.”

“Is this indeed so, Victor?”

“It is all settled. I am my own master, and will marry whom I please. I do wish you would ask her to visit you at your country-seat during the next month. You will be delighted with her. She is the very image of your sister-in-law the Marchioness Eugenie.”

“She must be very beautiful then. I will see her, Victor, and invite her for your sake. But do not be hasty about the marriage. Think it over coolly. Your relations will be mortified, and I fear that the king will be much displeased.”

“The king cares less for rank than most of his subjects. And as to my relations, I marry the girl, not they.”

——