For there are two ways of getting on in this world: one is to get credit for being cleverer than you are, and the other to be cleverer than your neighbour suspects.
But the latter plan is seldom followed, for the satisfaction it provides must necessarily be shared with no confidant.
Colville knew where to look for Mrs.St.Pierre Lawrence in Paris, where she always took an apartment in a quiet and old-fashioned hotel rejoicing in a select Royalist clientele on the Place Vendome.

On arriving at the capital, he hurried thither, and was told that the lady he sought had gone out a few minutes earlier.

"But Madame's maid," the porter added, "is no doubt within." Colville was conducted to Mrs.St.Pierre Lawrence's room, and was hardly there before the lady's French maid came hurrying in with upraised hands.
"A just Heaven has assuredly sent Monsieur at this moment!" she exclaimed.

"Madame only quitted this room ten minutes ago, and she was agitated--she, who is usually so calm.

She would tell me nothing; but I know--I, who have done Madame's hair these ten years! And there is only one thing that could cause her anxiety--except, of course, any mishap to Monsieur; that would touch the heart--yes!" "You are very kind, Catherine," said Colville, with a laugh, "to think me so important.