"I'll tip the maid next time, and she'll let out everything." After Paul's departure, Andre could not remain quiet; for it appeared to him as if each second was a century.

He had thrown open the door of his studio, and ran to the head of the stairs at every sound.
At last their footsteps really sounded on the steps.

The sweetest music in the world is the rustle of the beloved one's dress.

Leaning over the banisters, he gazed fondly down.

Soon she appeared, and in a short time had gained the open door of the studio.
"You see, Andre," said she, extending her hand, "you see that I am true to my time." Pale, and trembling with emotion, Andre pressed the little hand to his lips.
"Ah! Mademoiselle Sabine, how kind you are! Thanks, a thousand thanks." Yes, it was indeed Sabine, the scion of the lordly house of Mussidan, who had come to visit the poor foundling of the Hotel de Vendome in his studio, and who thus risked all that was most precious to her in the world, her honor and her reputation.