"That the young man opposite returned this morning—"
"Well, Nanette?" said Bathilde, raising her head and looking at her with severity, "what is that to me?"
"Pardon, mademoiselle," said Nanette, "but I thought—"
"What did you think?"
"That you regretted his absence, and would be glad of his return."
"You were wrong."
"Pardon, mademoiselle, but he appears so distinguished."
"Too much so, Nanette; a great deal too much so for poor Bathilde."
"Too distinguished for you, Mademoiselle!" cried Nanette, "as if you were not worth all the noblemen in the world! besides, you are noble!"
"I know what I appear to be, Nanette—that is to say, a poor girl, with whose peace, honor, and love, every nobleman thinks he may play with impunity. You see, Nanette, that this window must be closed. I must not see this young man again."