My new friend introduced me to the professor, who received me with all the polished courtesy of the French man of letters.  He that loves letters should love all other lovers of letters, and in France that is the case, even more so than Italy.  In Germany the literary man has an air of mysterious reserve.  He thinks he is proclaiming to all the world that he at all events is a man of no pretension, whereas his pride peeps through every moment.  Naturally the stranger is not encouraged by such a manner as this.

At the time of my visit there was an excellent company of actors at Montpellier, whom I went to see the same evening.  My bosom swelled at finding myself in the blessed air of France after all the annoyances I had gone through in Spain.  I seemed to have become young again; but I was altered, for several beautiful and clever actresses appeared on the stage without arousing any desires within me; and I would have it so.

I had a lively desire to find Madame Castelbajac, not with any wish to renew my old relations with her.  I wished to congratulate her on her improved position, but I was afraid of compromising her by asking for her in the town.

I knew that her husband was an apothecary, so I resolved to make the acquaintance of all the apothecaries in the place.  I pretended to be in want of some very rare drugs, and entered into conversation about the differences between the trade in France and in foreign countries.  If I spoke to the master I hoped he would talk to his wife about the stranger who had visited the countries where she had been, and that that would make her curious to know me.  If, on the other hand, I spoke to the man, I knew he would soon tell me all he knew about his master’s family.

On the third day my stratagem succeeded.  My old friend wrote me a note, telling me that she had seen me speaking to her husband in his shop.  She begged me to come again at a certain time, and to tell her husband that I had known her under the name of Mdlle.  Blasin in England, Spa, Leipzig, and Vienna, as a seller of lace.  She ended her note with these words: 

“I have no doubt that my husband will finally introduce you to me as his wife.”

I followed her advice, and the good man asked me if I had ever known a young lace seller of the name of Mdlle.  Blasin, of Montpellier.

“Yes, I remember her well enough—­a delightful and most respectable young woman; but I did not know she came from Montpellier.  She was very pretty and very sensible, and I expect she did a good business.  I have seen her in several European cities, and the last time at Vienna, where I was able to be of some slight service to her.  Her admirable behaviour won her the esteem of all the ladies with whom she came in contact.  In England I met her at the house of a duchess.”

“Do you think you would recognize her if you saw her again?”

“By Jove!  I should think so!  But is she at Montpellier?  If so, tell her that the Chevalier de Seingalt is here.”