"Have a little patience," she said, with her lovely smile, "when I come back very shortly, I will sing you my best songs."
She followed Aubé to No. 11. The proprietor was astonished to see that the door was open, and that one of the gentlemen had vanished.
Arthur and Fernando were there. Francine had seen the Italian before in the street, but Arthur was entirely unknown to her.
"I hope, Mademoiselle, you will sing us something," said Montferrand, politely.
Our readers will notice that this young man's instincts were not bad, and when removed from Frederic's influence, they resumed their ascendancy. The girl's gentle manner, her refined, pure face commended his respect.
Aubé, now quite reassured, hastened back to his duties below.
Francine began a prelude to a simple song, when suddenly she stopped, her guitar slipped from her hands. She saw Frederic de Talizac gliding into the room.
"Go on, ma belle" he said, "surely you are not afraid of me!" And he tried to take her by the waist.
"No," she replied, "I shall sing no more."
Frederic, though very tipsy, threw himself in front of the door.