desk near the door still remained vacant, and when no allusion was made to the circumstance by any individual of the class—when, on the contrary, I found that all observed a marked silence on the point—I determined, coûte qui coûte, to break the ice of this silly reserve. I selected Sylvie as my informant, because from her I knew that I should at least get a sensible answer, unaccompanied by wriggle, titter, or other flourish of folly.
"Où donc est Mdlle. Henri?" I said one day as I returned an exercise-book I had been examining.
"Elle est partie, monsieur."
"Partie! et pour combien de temps? Quand reviendra-t-elle?"
"Elle est partie pour toujours, monsieur; elle ne reviendra plus."
"Ah!" was my involuntary exclamation; then after a pause:—
"En êtes-vous bien sûre, Sylvie?"
