dame de
Bauffremont.

'As, next to the honour of offering you my homage, Madame la Marquise,
that was the reason of my coming here this evening, may I trespass upon
you to give me a few minutes alone?'

Madame de Bauffremont arose, and, taking the bishop's arm, retired into
a small room adjoining, and closed the door.

'Who is this Chevalier de Fitzgerald, Madame?' said he abruptly.

'I can give you very little insight into his history,' replied the
Marquise; 'but dare I presume to ask how are you interested about him?'

'You shall hear, Madame la Marquise. About six or eight months back, the
Queen's almoner, l'Abbe Jostinard, forwarded, of course by order of her
Majesty, certain names of individuals in the royal household to Rome,
imploring on their behalf the benediction of the Holy Father--a
very laudable measure, not unfrequent in former reigns, but somehow
lamentably fallen into disuse.' There was a strange, quaint expression
in his eye as he uttered these last words, which did not escape the
attention of the Marquise. 'Among these,' resumed he, 'there was
included the Chevalier de Fitzgerald. Now, Madame, you are well aware
that His Holiness takes especial pains to know that the recipients of
the holy favour are persons worthy, by their lives and habits, of
this precious blessing: while, therefore, for each of the others so
recommended there were friends and relatives in abundance to vouch--the
Rochemards, the Guesclins, the Tresignes can always find sufficient
bail--this poor Chevalier stood friendless and alone, none to answer
for, none to acknowledge him. Now, Madame, this might seem bad enough,
but it was not all, for, not satisfied with excluding him from the
sacred benediction, the consulta began speculating who and what he might
be, whence he came, and so on. The most absurd conjectures, the wildest
speculations, grew out of these researches: some tracing him to this,
others to that origin, but all agreeing that he belonged to that
marvellous order whom people are pleased to call adventurers. In the
midst of this controversy distinguished names became entangled, some one
would have said too high for the breath of scandal to attain--your own,
Madame la Marquise----'

'Mine! how mine?' cried she eagerly.

'A romantic story of a sojourn in a remote villa in the Apennines--a
tale positively interesting of a youth rescued from brigands or
Bohemians, I forget which--pray assist me.'

'Continue, sir,' sa