after much deliberation, she managed to compose a few lines to her satisfaction.
"I think," she wrote, "that your intentions are those of a gentleman, that you are sincere in what you write and are not trying to mislead me by your conduct, but you must know that our acquaintance can not proceed in this way. I am returning your letter, hoping you will not give me cause to regret my trust in you."
Next morning, as soon as she saw Hermann, she left her work, went into the drawing-room and opening the window, threw the letter in the street, confident that the young officer would not let it go astray. And she was right, for Hermann picked it up immediately and went into a pastry shop to read it. Not finding anything discouraging in the letter, he went home, rather pleased that this amorous intrigue should begin so well.
A few days later, a young girl with rather saucy looks, asked to speak to Mademoiselle Lisabeta, saying she had been sent by a certain milliner. Lisabeta received her with some trepidation, fearing an unsettled bill; but she was greatly surprised, on opening the paper handed to her, to recognise Hermann's handwriting.
"This is a mistake, the letter is not for me."
"I beg your pardon," answered the young
