As we reached the oak, I looked down along the footpath towards the pavilion, and saw Coquelin's light shining in one of the windows. I immediately proposed that we should pay him a visit. My aunt objected, on the ground that he was doubtless busy and would not thank us for interrupting him. And then, when I in sisted, she said it was not proper.
"How not proper?"
"It's not proper for me. A lady doesn't visit young men in their own apartments."
At this the Vicomte cried out. He was partly amused, I think, at my aunt's attaching any compromising power to poor little Coquelin, and partly annoyed at her not considering his own company, in view of his pretensions, a sufficient guaranty.
"I should think," he said, "that with the Chevalier and me you might venture—"
"As you please, then," said my aunt. And I accordingly led the way to my governor's abode.
It was a small edifice of a single floor, stand-