"My dear Monsieur Browne," it ran, "if you could spare a friend a few moments of your valuable time, I should be so grateful if you could let me see you. The matter upon which I desire to consult you, as my letter would lead you to suppose, is an exceedingly important one. Should you chance to be disengaged to-morrow (Thursday) afternoon, I will remain in, in the hope of seeing you.— Always your friend, and never more than now,
"SOPHIE BERNSTEIN."
Browne read this curious epistle three times, and each time was farther from being able to understand it. What was this matter upon which Madame Bernstein desired to consult him? Could it have any connection with Katherine? If not, what else could it possibly be? And why did she call herself his friend, and wind up with "and never more than now"? It had one good point, however; it would, in all probability, furnish him with another opportunity of seeing the girl he loved. And yet there were twenty hours to be disposed of before he could possibly keep the appointment. Never in his life had time seemed so long.
Punctually to the minute he arrived at the door of the commonplace building in the Rue Jacquarie. The concierge looked out from her cubby-hole at him, and inquired his business. In reply he asked the number of Madame Bernstein's rooms, and, having been informed, went upstairs in search of them. He had not very far to go, however, for he encountered madame herself on the landing half-way up.
"Ah, monsieur!" she cried, holding out her hand with an impetuous gesture, that was as theatrical as her usual behaviour, "this is most kind of you to come to see me so promptly. I know that I am trespassing both upon your good nature and your time."
"I hope you will not mention that," said Browne politely. "If I can be of any use to you, I think you know you may command me."
"It is not for myself that I have asked you to come," she answered. "But do not let us talk here. Will you not accompany me to my rooms?"
She accordingly led the way up the next flight of stairs and along a corridor to a room that was half drawing-room half boudoir. Madame carefully closed the door, and then bade him be seated. Browne took possession of an easy-chair, wondering what was going to happen next.