A sleepy servant opened the door, and we crept quietly upstairs, lest we should disturb the Vicomte, who, tired from his great journey, had retired to bed while I changed my clothes for the Imperial ball.
"Good-night," said Lucille, without looking round at the head of the stairs.

Madame followed her daughter, but I noticed that she gave me no salutation.
I turned to my study, of which the door stood open, and where a shaded lamp discreetly burned.

I threw aside my coat and attended to the light.

My letters lay on the table, but before I had taken them up the rustle of a woman's dress in a gallery drew my attention elsewhere.
It was Madame, who came in bearing a small tray, whereon stood wine and biscuits.
"You are tired out," she said.

"You had no refreshment at the Tuileries.