e　too…　authentic　box　of　Pandora。
  〃Doctor；　what　an　excellent　common…sense　story　the　story　of　Pandora　is！if　I　were　a　poet　I　would　put　it　into　French　verse。　　Shake　hands；　doctor！　　You　have　brought　me　back　to　life；　I　forgive　you　for　it。　　You　have　given　me　back　to　my　friends；　I　thank　you　for　it。　　You　say　I　am　quite　strong。　　That　may　be；　that　may　be；　but　I　have　lasted　a　very　long　time。　　I　am　a　very　old　article　of　furniture；　I　might　be　very　satisfactorily　compared　to　my　father's　arm…chair。　　It　was　an　arm…　chair　which　the　good　man　had　inherited；　and　in　which　he　used　to　lounge　from　morning　until　evening。　　Twenty　times　a　day；　when　I　was　quite　a　baby；　I　used　to　climb　up　and　seat　myself　on　one　of　the　arms　of　that　old…fashioned　chair。　　So　long　as　the　chair　remained　intact；　nobody　paid　any　particular　attention　to　it。　　But　it　began　to　limp　on　one　foot　and　then　folks　began　to　say　that　it　was　a　very　good　chair。　　Afterwards　it　became　lame　in　three　legs；　squeaked　with　the　fourth　leg；　and　lost　nearly　half　of　both　arms。　　Then　everybody　would　exclaim；　'What　a　strong　chair！'　　They　wondered　how　it　was　that　after　its　arms　had　been　worn　off　and　all　its　legs　knocked　out　of　perpendicular；　it　could　yet　preserve　the　recognisable　shape　of　a　chair；　remains　nearly　erect；　and　still　be　of　some　service。　　The　horse…hair　came　out　of　its　body　at　last；　and　it　gave　up　the　ghost。　And　when　Cyprien；　our　servant；　sawed　up　its　mutilated　members　for　fire…wood；　everybody　redoubled　their　cries　of　admiration。　　Oh！　what　an　excellentwhat　a　marvellous　chair！　　It　was　the　chair　of　Pierre　Sylvestre　Bonnard；　the　cloth　merchantof　Epimenide　Bonnard；　his　sonof　Jean…Baptiste　Bonnard；　the　Pyrrhonian　philosopher　and　Chief　of　the　Third　Maritime　Division。　　Oh！　what　a　robust　and　venerable　chair！'　　In　reality　it　was　a　dead　chair。　　Well；　doctor；　I　am　that　chair。　　You　think　I　am　solid　because　I　have　been　able　to　resist　an　attack　which　would　have　killed　many　people；　and　which　only　three…　fourths　killed　me。　　Much　obliged！　　I　feel　none　the　less　that　I　am　something　which　has　been　irremediably　damaged。〃
  The　doctor　tries　to　prove　to　me；　with　the　help　of　enormous　Greek　and　Latin　words；　that　I　am　really　in　a　very　good　condition。　　It　would；　of　course；　be　useless　to　attempt　any　demonstration　of　this　kind　in　so　lucid　a　language　as　French。　　However；　I　allow　him　to　persuade　me　at　last；　and　I　see　him　to　the　door。
  〃Good！　good！〃　exclaimed　Therese；　〃that　is　the　way　to　put　the　doctor　out　of　the　house！　　Just　do　the　same　thing　once　or　twice　again；　and　he　will　not　come　to　see　you　any　moreand　so　much　the　better？〃
  〃Well；　Therese；　now　that　I　have　become　such　a　hearty　man　again；　do　not　refuse　to　give　me　my　letters。　　I　am　sure　there　must　be　quite　a　big　bundle　of　letters；　and　it　would　be　very　wicked　to　keep　me　any　longer　from　reading　them。〃
  Therese；　after　some　little　grumbling；　gave　me　my　letters。　　But　what　did　it　matter？I　looked　at　all　the　envelopes；　and　saw　that　no　one　of　them　had　been　addressed　by　the　little　hand　which　I　so　much　wish　I　could　see　here　now；　turning　over　the　pages　of　the　Vecellio。　　I　pushed　the　whole　bundle　of　letters　away：　　they　had　no　more　interest　for　me。
  April…June
  It　was　a　hotly　contested　engagement。
  〃Wait；　Monsieur；　until　I　have　put　on　my　clean　things；〃　exclaimed　Therese；　〃and　I　will　go　out　with　you　this　time　also；　I　will　carry　your　folding…stool　as　I　have　been　doing　these　last　few　days；　and　we　will　go　and　sit　down　somewhere　in　the　sun。〃
  Therese　actually　thinks　me　infirm。　　I　have　been　sick；　it　is　true；　but　there　is　an　end　to　all　things！　　Madame　Malady　has　taken　her　departure　quite　awhile　ago；　and　it　is　now　more　than　three　months　since　her　pale　and　gracious…visaged　handmaid；　Dame　Convalescence；　politely　bade　me　farewell。　　If　I　were　to　listen　to　my　housekeeper；　I　should　become　a　veritable　Monsieur　Argant；　and　I　should　wear　a　nightcap　with　ribbons　for　the　rest　of　my　life。。。。　　No　more　of　this！　I　propose　to　go　out　by　myself！　　Therese　will　not　hear　of　it。　　She　takes　my　folding…stool；　and　wants　to　follow　me。
  〃Therese；　to…morrow；　if　you　like；　we　will　take　our　seats　on　the　sunny　side　of　the　wall　of　La　Petite　Provence　and　stay　there　just　as　long　as　you　please。　　But　to…day　I　have　some　very　important　affairs　to　attend　to。〃
  〃So　much　the　better！　　But　your　affairs　are　not　the　only　affairs　in　this　world。〃
  I　beg；　I　scold；　I　make　my　escape。
  It　is　quite　a　pleasant　day。　　With　the　aid　of　a　cab　and　the　help　of　almighty　God；　I　trust　to　be　able　to　fulfil　my　purpose。
  There　is　the　wall　on　which　is　painted　in　great　blue　letters　the　words　〃Pensionnat　de　Demoiselles　tenu　par　Mademoiselle　Virginie　Prefere。〃　　There　is　the　iron　gate　which　would　give　free　entrance　into　the　court…yard　if　it　were　ever　opened。　　But　the　lock　is　rusty；　and　sheets　of　zinc　put　up　behind　the　bars　protect　the　indiscreet　observation　those　dear　little　souls　to　whom　Mademoiselle　Prefere　doubtless　teaches　modesty；　sincerity；　justice；　and　disinterestedness。　There　is　a　window；　with　iron　bars　before　it；　and　panes　daubed　over　with　white　paintthe　window　of　the　domestic　offices；　like　a　glazed　eyethe　only　aperture　of　the　building　opening　upon　the　exterior　world。　　As　for　the　house…door；　through　which　I　entered　so　often；　but　which　is　now　closed　against　me　for　ever；　it　is　just　as　I　saw　it　the　last　time；　with　its　little　iron…grated　wicket。　　The　single　stone　step　in　front　of　it　is　deeply　worn；　and；　without　having　very　good　eyes　behind　my　spectacles；　I　can　see　the　little　white　scratches　on　the　stone　which　have　been　made　by　the　nails　in　the　shoes　of　the　girls　going　in　and　out。　　And　why　cannot　I　also　go　in？　　I　have　a　feeling　that　Jeanne　must　be　suffering　a　great　deal　in　this　dismal　house；　and　that　she　calls　my　name　in　secret。　　I　cannot　go　away　from　the　gate！　　A　strange　anxiety　takes　hold　of　me。　　I　pull　the　bell。　The　scared…looking　servant　comes　to　the　door；　even　more　scared…　looking　than　when　I　saw　her　the　last　time。　　Strict　orders　have　been　given；　I　am　not　to　be　allowed　to　see　Mademoiselle　Jeanne。　　I　beg　the　servant　to　be　so　kind　as　to　tell　me　how　the　child　is。　　The　servant；　after　looking　to　her　right　and　then　to　her　left；　tells　me　that　Mademoiselle　Jeanne　is　well；　and　then　shuts　the　door　in　my　face。　　And　I　am　all　alone　in　the　street　again。
  How　many　times　since　then　have　I　wandered　in　the　same　way　under　that　wall；　and　passed　before　the　little　door；full　of　shame　and　despair　to　find　myself　even　weaker　than　that　poor　child；　who　has　no　other　help　of　friend　except　myself　in　the　world！
  Finally　I　overcame　my　repugnance　sufficiently　to　call　upon　Maitre　Mouche。　　The　first　thing　I　remarked　was　that　his　office　is　much　more　dusty　and　much　more　mouldy　this　year　that　it　was　last　year。　　The　notary　made　his　appearance　after　a　moment；　with　his　familiar　stiff　gestures；　and　his　restless　eyes　quivering　behind　his　eye…glasses。　I　made　my　complaints　to　him。　　He　answered　me。。。。　　But　why　should　I　write　down；　even　in　a　notebook　which　I　am　going　to　burn；　my　recollections　of　a　downright　scoundrel？　　He　takes　sides　with　Mademoiselle　Prefere；　whose　intelligent　mind　and　irreproachable　character　he　has　long　appreciated。　　He　does　not　feel　himself　in　a　position　to　decide　the　nature　of　the　question　at　issue；　but　he　must　assure　me　that　appearances　have　been　greatly　against　me。　　That　of　course　makes　no　difference　to　me。　　He　adds（and　this　does　make　some　sense　to　me）that　the　small　sum　which　had　been　placed　in　his　hands　to　defray　the　expenses　of　the　education　of　his　ward　has　been　expended；　and　that；　in　view　of　the　circumstances；　he　cannot　but　gently　admire　the　disinterestedness　of　Mademoiselle　Prefere　in　consenting　to　allow　Mademoiselle　Jeanne　to　remain　with　her。
  A　magnificent　light；　the　light　of　a　perfect　day；　floods　the　sordid　place　with　its　incorruptible　torrent；　and　illuminates　teh　person　of　that　man！
  And　outside　it　pours　down　its　splendour　upon　all　the　wretchedness　of　a　populous　quarter。
  How　sweet　it　is；this　light　with　which　my　eyes　have　so　long　been　filled；　and　which　ere　long　I　must　for　ever　cease　to　enjoy！　　I　wander　out　with　my　hands　behind　me；　dreaming　as　I　go；　following　the　line　of　the　fortifications；　and　I　find　myself　after　awhile；　I　know　not　how；　in　an　out…of…the…way　suburb　full　of　miserable　little　gardens。　　By　the　dusty　roadside　I　observe　a　plant　whose　flower；　at　once　dark　and　splendid；　seems　worthy　of　association　with　the　noblest　and　purest　mouning　for　the　dead。　　It　is　a　columbine。　　Our　fathers　called　it　〃Our　Lady's　Glove〃le　gant　de　Notre…Dame。　　Only　such　a　〃Notre…Dame〃　as　might　make　herself　very；　very　small；　for　the　sake　of　appearing　to　little　children；　could　ever　slip　her　dainty　fingers　into　the　narrow　capsue　of　that　flower。
  And　there　is　a　big　bumble…bee　who　tries　to　force　himself　into　the　flower；　brutally；　but　his　mouth　cannot　reach　the　nectar；　and　the　poor　glutton　strives　and　strives　in　vain。　　He　has　to　give　up　the　attempt；　and　comes　out　of　the　flower　all　smeared　over　with　pollen。　He　flies　off　in　his　own　heavy　lumbering　way；　but　there　are　not　many　flowers　in　this　portion　of　the　suburbs；　which　has　been　defiled　by　the　soot　and　smoke　of　factories。　　So　he　comes　back　to　the　columbine　again；　and　this　time　he　pierces　the　corolla　and　sucks　the　honey　through　the　little　hole　which　he　has　made；　I　should　never　have　thought　that　a　bumble…bee　had　so　much　sense