'Our good Cartel is in love, Marthe!' he said, laughing.

'He is making music like a bird in spring!' And then, monsieur, the next thing was a great rush of feet down the stairs, and who should come flying into the hallway but M.Cartel himself.

He paused for an instant, seeing our door open, and he, too, was laughing.

'What a fellow that Charpentier is!' he cried to my husband.

'His _Louise_ has kept me until I am all but late for my _rendezvous_!' And he ran out through the hall, singing as he went.